


Here Comes A Feeling You Thought You’d Forgotten

by Priestlyislove



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Almost Kiss, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Swap, Denial of Feelings, Drunken Shenanigans, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, He’s a werewolf AND a swearwolf, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Violence, Pining, Sexual Humor, Slow Burn, Swearing, a touch of dark humor, it’s about vampires so there’s going to be buckets of blood, so touchy-feely not even a romcom enthusiast could withstand it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-01-22 03:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 73,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12472912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Priestlyislove/pseuds/Priestlyislove
Summary: An eternity of isolation awaited Cavendish when he was turned.Or at least, that’s what he thought.





	1. Two Nights Of Noise

Some people say October looked best after midnight, into the early hours of the morning when everything was still. Almost everything. But then again, anything that did not sleep at night only added to the loveliness that was the month.

It would be a good number of days before he’d have to feed, and the chance of him receiving a visitor was about as high as the chance of him leaving his manor that evening: practically zero. And that might sound like a lonely existence, but it didn’t feel like one, mostly because Cavendish did not remember what a life with others was like.

There were plenty of books in his library on the subject, stories about family, friendship, and of course, romance. But he never made any effort to relate or understand. And why should he? These were human things, and he was not a human.

Perhaps this was a slight exaggeration. There was a point where he most definitely _was_ a human, but that time was long gone. Bitten by someone, somewhere, for some reason (you start to lose track of the details after a few decades), his humanity was ripped away from him and replaced with something cold and dead. It was hard to remember, but he didn’t think he had much to live for anyway.

Yes, it seemed to be he had known loneliness long before he became a vampire.

A night alone was as good an excuse as any for practicing piano, one of the few human pleasures he allowed himself to partake in. The sound was soothing, and if he had a soul, he’d be able to pour it into the melodies. Swept away from who he is or who he was, there was a sense of peace there that matched no other.

But his night of solitude and tranquility was interrupted by an enormous bang erupting from his front doors. Cavendish sighed internally, as he had been moments from losing himself to the music. Whatever was making that horrible noise in his home was about to pay dearly.

His cape swishing behind him, he practically flew down the staircase, stopping dramatically halfway to give his spiel. “Foolish mortal,” he hissed, voice a little rough from underuse but adding to the ambience, “do you have any idea what misfortune you’ve wandered into? Your death is predetermined, but it will not be swi-“

“HEY DUDE THAT’S COOL AND ALL,” A rumbling voice interrupted him. The raised monotone was edged with a bit of panic. “BUT CAN I BORROW A BANDAID?”

Cavendish would rarely admit his own flaws, but when he did, among them was his habit to monologue so hard that he didn’t take in his surroundings. This was a fairly common issue among mankind’s antagonists, so he didn’t beat himself up over it too much. But still.

Snapped out of it, the first overwhelmed sense was smell. The figure rudely interrupting him was soaked through with the stench of something Cavendish hadn’t smelled in a long time. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was foul and hardly human.

The second of his senses to be surprised was his sight. A man in a torn tracksuit already halfway to the staircase, doubled over and clutching his stomach. Blood gushed from the wound he was covering, soiling his clothes and the carpet. His eyes beneath his large sunglasses were wild, and his face and hair were smudged with blood and dirt.

There was so much going on that Cavendish was at a loss for words. All other thoughts were pushed back by one he couldn’t help blurting out, “what the devil do you think a bandaid is going to accomplish?”

“PLEASE?” The man yelled, and Cavendish was pretty certain he hadn’t heard his question. Which wouldn’t be that strange, seeing how his ears seemed to be folding back into his skin. The man’s pupils slitted against freshly yellow irises, and suddenly Cavendish recognized the smell.

Werewolf.

The last time he had to deal with them was closer to when he was turned than today, although whether it was decades or centuries ago escaped him. The victor of the fighting was unclear, and both sides received suitable enough damage where there was no interest in a rematch. That’s how he ended up in this dismal little town, and he was not overly inclined to have to move again. He’d have to just get rid of the little beast before getting the attention of the whole pack.

He rushed down the rest of the stairs, trying to simply shoo him away. “Get out of here now, and I will let this offense slide.” He forced a smile.

The wolfman threw up on him before passing out at his feet.

Charming creatures, really.

When he had entered, he did not shut the door behind him, and now the first streaks of daylight were pouring onto Cavendish’s freshly bloodstained carpet. He shuffled around the body, getting behind the door to close it as he pondered his options. He could throw the ghastly thing right out the door, but he still didn’t know why he came in the first place. He could wait until night to interrogate him and send him in his way.

He sighed. It was going to be a long day.

Night returned without any further incidents. Cavendish had moved the man to the couch. It wasn’t for his benefit, it just made cleanup easier. He stopped for a moment to look at him. He hadn’t bothered taking in anyone’s features in quite a long time. He wasn’t unattractive, with thick wild locks of dark hair and a square jaw. His nose was on the larger end of the spectrum but it fit his face. If it weren’t for his fuzzy new ears and almost triangular teeth, he’d still pass as a human. A handsome one at that. Cavendish felt a weird heaviness in his chest. It wasn’t his fault and it wasn’t his business, so he returned his attention to cleaning up the mess. He was still working on that when the tracksuit man woke up.

“Huh, I didn’t die.” He looked down at his hands, slightly bemused but otherwise unperturbed. “That’s cool.”

“Of course you didn’t die,” Cavendish stood, rolling his eyes and brushing the dust from his pant legs. “Only a human would die from something like that.”

He looked at him and grinned. “Hey, you didn’t kick me out! When I saw some angry old guy was living here, I thought you were going to kick me out for sure. Sorry for bleeding all over the place. Did I throw up? I think I threw up. Sorry about that if it happened. My name’s Vinnie, uh, Dakota. I didn’t pause because I forgot my last name, I just wasn’t sure if it’d be weird to give my full name.”

“Your name doesn’t matter,” Cavendish was a little dumbstruck by the free flow of thoughts coming out of this Dakota’s mouth. He tried to brush it off and maintain his focus. “Why did you come here last night?”

Dakota stared at him for a moment, his eyes widened as he recalled the events that led him to this stranger’s couch. “Oh man, I was out with my friend when this huge dog attacked her! I wrestled it off before it could bite her or anything, but it was freakishly strong. Like, you can’t even imagine this kind of power. I’ve never fought anything that vicious in my life, and I wrestled an angry bear once. It did a hell of a job on me. It finally ran off, but I don’t think it was ‘cause of me, since nothing I did seem to hurt it even a little. So my friend already ran off, which is good because I told her to, but I definitely was going to die. I mean, you saw, I was real messed up. I...feel alright now, though…”

Dakota began checking his body over for signs that last night’s injures were real, patting at his limbs and hair. “How long was I knocked out?” He unzipped what was left of his top, muttering, “guess I’m down to just five of these bad boys” and lifted the once-was-white tank to find one mean looking scar across the right side of his stomach. “Oh, there’s that one! Yeah, he got me bad.”

“Of course only the bite won’t heal. How do you not know that?” Cavendish stopped him before he could start. “No, wait, I don’t care. Just tell me why you came here of all places.”

“Your house was the closest.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“It’s not a house, it’s a castle,” well, that wasn’t true either, but it sounded better. “And you came here because it was the _closest_? Hasn’t anyone warned you a vampire lives here?”

There was a beat of silence. Dakota did not look impressed. “What, you?”

“Yes, me!” He sputtered, in total disbelief over this lack of respect. He straightened up to his full height, snarling so his teeth were all visible. “Did you not notice the _fangs_?”

“It’s been a long day,” he tried for a halfhearted apology. “I’m sure you’re very scary, it’s just-ah, do you mind if I take off my pants real quick?”

Cavendish’s annoyance vanished into confusion and mild horror. “What kind of question is that?”

Taking that as confirmation, Dakota started slipping them off. “Just real quick. Something’s just been bothering me-“ he freed a fluffy tail, already wagging to reflect its owner’s curiosity. “Well that’s new.”

Cavendish was covering his eyes. “Just put your pants back on!” The command did not come out as commanding as he hoped.

“Well I can’t now, I’ve got a new body part to account for,” Dakota was significantly less distressed than a person ought to be when finding inhuman limbs they don’t have control over stuck to them. “It’s cool, I’ve got boxers on. Are you a virgin or something?”

“I am not a virgin,” he spat, still flustered but removing his hands from his face. “I just don’t like strangers getting naked on my couch.”

“We’re not really strangers though. You know my name, I know you’re a vampire...what is your name, anyway?”

“Cavendish.” He wasn’t sure why he told him, it wasn’t like he wanted him to know, but the word just slipped out.

Dakota, still full of surprises, snorted at him. “Wait, really? What were your parents thinking? I guess Vinnie isn’t so bad after all.”

“It’s my last name.” He hissed, fuming internally.

“Oh, that makes more sense. What’s your first?” Dakota continued to smile at him.

Cavendish rolled his eyes, huffing, “After that, you really think I’d tell you?”

“Aw come on, don’t be like that.” He pleaded, pouting, “It was just unexpected. With how you act and dress, I thought it’d be like, Vladimir or something.” Cavendish did not budge. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll just call you Mr. Vampire Cavendish. Is that what you want? Is it?”

“I _want_ you to stop making a mockery of a very serious situation. I hope you realize you’re in enemy territory.” He folded his arms across his chest.

Dakota leaned back. “Uh, ‘cause you eat people, right?”

“I eat humans, and I-I don’t even eat them, I drink their blood,” he didn’t know why he was explaining himself. Dakota’s attitude just sparked it in him. The last time he had a proper conversation was…well, you get the idea.

“So you want some of my delicious human blood or something?” Dakota asked inattentively.

“You-you have a tail!” He stammered in frustration. How could one guy be this dense?

Dakota sat up a little. “Ooh, am I vampire too now?”

“I don’t have a tail! Vampires don’t have tails! What do you think is happening right now?!”

“Not sure, but you don’t have to yell.” Dakota held up his hands in his defense. “If you know more, please, enlighten me.”

He did not stop yelling. If there was still blood rushing through his veins, his face would most certainly be flushed. “You’re a werewolf! That big dog that attacked you was a wolf, and it bit you, and now you’re a wolf! You’re supposed to be angst ridden, not playing twenty questions!”

“I guess that makes more sense.” Dakota nodded to himself like he just came across a semi interesting piece of trivia, as opposed to his entire life getting flip flopped. His talking pace and tail wagging quickened as he quickfired excitedly, “So, do I transform on full moons or is that just a myth? Do I control when I transform? Do I know what I’m doing when I’m transformed? Did the guy who attacked me know what he was doing? If he did, why did he do that? Is my hair going to grow faster? What about my nails? Do I heal faster? Is that why I’ve got no cuts? If I met another werewolf, would I know they were one too? How would i know? If we were both in wolf form would I still-“

“I DON’T KNOW!” Cavendish cut him off. He caught his breath and sighed. His voice softened, “I don’t know, Dakota. I’ll do some reading, and...and I’ll get back to you. How about you come back in a couple days and I’ll answer whatever questions you’ve got, okay?”

Dakota grinned again, teeth glistening. “It’s a date.”

Dakota hopped up, grabbing his discarded pants and trying to shove his tail back in. “I’ll do some ‘searching of my own and find out some vampire stuff, too. I better get home, so I’ll just leave you to your brooding or whatever. See ya.” And with that, he left through those big heavy doors that he had stumbled into the night before.

As Cavendish watched him go, he only then processed what he had signed up for. 


	2. It’s Temporary

He didn’t want Dakota to come back.

There was no guarantee he’d come back, anyway. Maybe he’d come to his senses and realize he’s lucky he made it out alive the first time and never return. Or maybe he’d forget, or decide even if Cavendish didn’t murder him, he didn’t make very good company. He might run off to go live in the woods for a while, deal with the expected amount of angst. Some wolves might’ve taken him in. Or perhaps he’d just drop dead. Werewolves were hardly invincible. Someone carrying a silver fork might trip and fall onto him, plunging it right into his heart. A hunter who was rich enough to splurge on silver bullets might mistake him for a deer in a tracksuit. Anything was possible.

As Cavendish considered all the excuses for why he wouldn’t show up, he still found himself listening intently for a knock at the door or that gravelly voice calling for him to open up. Waiting for these sounds just made the silence even quieter. Had it always been like this? Did two nights with the guy really change the whole feel of his home?

He didn’t want to read up on werewolf lore. That way, if by some miraculous turn of fate, Dakota still showed up on his doorstep, he’d be able to turn him away immediately. But he didn’t have anything better to do, and every activity he tried to distract himself with just made him think about it more. It had been so long since he had a goal to reach, a task to accomplish, and he was finding himself rather curious. The more he knew about them the easier it would be to keep them away, after all.

So he still read, and he still listened, but that didn’t mean he wanted anything to come of it. That’s what he convinced himself. He tried to count how many nights had passed since their last encounter. He mentally cursed himself for not giving him a specific number of days, but he was fairly certain Dakota was not the type of guy who showed up to places when he was supposed to. That didn’t matter now, though, because it felt like it had been a lot longer than just a couple days, and he was still alone, and Dakota wasn’t going to show up.

But then he did.

“Anybody home?” Dakota was already halfway through the door, shoving it open with his shoulder, hands full with a big flat box. He was chewing on something but swallowed before continuing, “Did I come too early? You didn’t really specify but I assumed you’d be asleep during the day.”

Cavendish huffed and ushered him in, shutting the door behind him to avoid any incidents like the other night. He chided him, “Just because you _can_ enter buildings without being invited in doesn’t mean you _should_.”

“Wait, can you not enter places without permission?” Dakota smirked at him. “I thought that had to be fake for sure.”

“That’s besides the point.” Once he got passed the oppressive wolf smell he just let in, he noticed another horrendous smell, presumably coming from the box. Disgust was evident in his voice, “What is that?”

“Oh, right!” Dakota glanced down at the box, as if he had forgotten he was holding it. “Kind of a funny story. I thought I should bring you a thank you for offering to help me, but I didn’t know what you like, so I thought hey, everyone likes doughnuts, right? And I bought you a whole dozen and as I was walking over here I realized you probably don’t actually like doughnuts that much since you don’t eat. So now all I’ve got for you is the box.”

Despite his tendency to ramble, Cavendish managed to follow along with the story. “So you ate twelve of those on the way over?”

“Nah, I’m at eleven and a half. ‘Bout to be twelve, though.” With that, he took out the last bit of fried pastry, balancing the box with one hand and a knee, and finished it off. Dakota caught the way he was staring at him and straightened up, laughing a little. “The box is temporary, I promise. I’ll get you something nice once I know you a little better.”

“Don’t get me anything,” Cavendish waved him off. For some reason, turning him away was harder than he imagined. The words got stuck in his throat. “I know I said I’d help you, but I can’t.” He had to bite his tongue before he apologized. Old habits died hard, but he didn’t have anything to be sorry for.

Dakota was not dissuaded. “I’m still getting you something dude. I didn’t expect you to have all the answers, anyway. It’s just nice to have someone with me as I figure this all out.” He was so genuine it hurt.

“That’s not what I mean.” Cavendish kept his solemn demeanor. He chose his words carefully, “I know you’re new to this whole thing, but vampires and werewolves don’t usually get along.”

“Why not?” He was still smiling a little, not following.

Cavendish sighed. He just couldn’t make this easy, could he? “I don’t know, it’s just how it is.”

“Then what a pair we make!” Dakota bounced on the balls of his feet and he walked past him, trying to find a place to store the box.

Cavendish followed after him. “That’s not how this works. You-you can’t just ignore stuff like that. It’s _biology_.”

Dakota snorted. “What do you know about biology? You dress like the atom still hasn’t been discovered.” He set it down on a table, nodding triumphantly to himself. “Yeah, this is a good spot. Out of your way, but still in sight.” As if the topic of where to put his garbage was on par with the discussion Cavendish was trying to have.

“You’re supposed to hate me!” He cried in exasperation.

“Well, do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Hate me.” Dakota turned his full attention back to him. The humor in his expression had faded, leaving plain curiosity in it’s wake. He bit at his lip absentmindedly and Cavendish found himself looking away.

The question caught him off guard. The answer that would get him to leave was obvious, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. It just...wasn’t true. He didn’t like him, but he didn’t hate him either. He settled on a soft, “I should.”

Dakota smiled like he knew something that Cavendish didn’t, which was infuriating. “So how about we give this a chance?”

“What exactly do you define as ‘this?’” Cavendish asked hesitantly, partially regretting the words once they had left his mouth.

“Us.” He replied simply. He winked, “And if you end up hating me, I won’t take it personally.”

If he didn’t know better, Cavendish would’ve sworn he felt his heart flutter. He managed to keep his cool externally. “Fine. I’ll give _us_ a try.”

“Sick.” Dakota said, as if it were the easiest decision of his life. He held up his fist, and Cavendish gave him an embarrassed halfhearted fist bump. “I’m actually surprised you knew what that was.”

Cavendish made a face, but glowed with pride on the inside that he managed to surprise his uusually unperturbed partner. “What, did you think I just stayed inside every night, brooding?”

Dakota thought for a moment before nodding. “Uh, yeah, actually. That seemed to be your thing.” He walked past him again, eyes scanning the corners where the walls met the ceilings. “Thought there’d be a lot more cobwebs too.”

“When you can reach the ceiling, cleaning it isn’t so much of a hassle.”

Dakota couldn’t hold back another full sized smile. “Was that a _joke_?”

Cavendish tried to hide his satisfaction. “You tell me.”

Dakota made his way back over. “If it was, was it a height joke or a vampire joke?”

“If I explain it, then it’s not a joke anymore,” Cavendish took a step back as Dakota started intruding upon his personal space. “More importantly, did you cut a hole in your pants for your tail?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” Dakota twisted around so he could get a better look. “I cut holes in all my pants. Pretty smart, right?”

Cavendish did not follow his logic. “But what if you get turned back into a human? Then you’re stuck with holes in all your pants.”

“I didn’t know that was possible.” The near constant movement of his tail slowed a bit. “Is it?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” Cavendish said, “but if you didn’t know, you shouldn’t assume.”

He stretched, yawning. Those teeth of his were certainly interesting. Almost captivating. Cavendish didn’t know where that thought came from and tried to pretend it never happened. Dakota complained, “man, you got my hopes up for nothing.”

There it was! “So you do want to be human again!” It was not so much a question as it was a victorious accusation. His languish took far too long to appear, but at least it showed up.

But Dakota just shrugged. “I guess? I mean, things seemed easier that way, but I suppose once I get used to this it won’t be that difficult.”

“Don’t you long for your life to return to the way it used to be? Your chance to live normally torn from you each night the moon is full? Everything you've grown accustomed to, lost, as you are tossed cruelly between two worlds, never fitting in with either? Are you not weighed down with the horrible guilt and shame of what you’ve become?” Cavendish prompted him on, complete with dramatic cape swishing and hand motions.

“Nah man, I’m just chilling.” He wandered off, exploring the manor. He spoke a little louder, unaware that Cavendish was following him so closely, “Are you like, self projecting or something?”

Cavendish grimaced and let the gap between them grow so Dakota wouldn’t yell in his face. “Are you joking? I’d never want to be human again. So powerless and frail, just _asking_ to be attacked.” He didn’t mention he couldn’t remember what it felt like to have a heartbeat. Or that he couldn’t remember what the first couple of years after his transformation were like. It was quite possible he felt like that. Once. It didn’t matter now. “No, it’s not how I feel, it’s how you’re supposed to feel. All werewolves do.”

“At least humans can enter 7-Eleven without a formal invitation.” Dakota fired back with a small smirk. He placed his hands on the wall, then pressed the side of his face against it, ears twitching. “You got any secret passages in this place?”

“No. Why would I need one?” He stopped himself from getting distracted. “Can you at least pretend to listen?”

“I am listening!” Dakota said in his own defense. He pushed off of the wall and continued to search for the oddities he expected in such an old house. “I just don’t have a lot to add. You know better than anyone I don’t know anything about being a werewolf. That’s why I came in the first place, yeah?” He made his way up the stairs and started opening any doors that weren’t locked. “Ooh, bathroom. You still take showers, right? I mean, I get you proba-“

“Yes, Dakota.” He cut him off with an embarrassed hiss. “I bathe myself. Get out of my bathroom.”

“First just get in here for a sec.” Dakota called back and he sighed, joining him in the little room. Dakota laughed. “Oh my god, you really don’t have a reflection! Why haven’t you removed this mirror?”

Cavendish glanced into the mirror, seeing Dakota’s unadulterated delight and his clothes. “Why should I? It may not benefit me, but it doesn’t get in my way either. The wall would look rather bare without it.”

“Do you not show up in pictures either? Oh man, imagine all the stuff we could pull.” Dakota’s attention span did not let him dwell on this for long, and he soon darted around Cavendish to keep searching. “You got any paintings of like, your dead ex wife or something?”

“I’m gay.” He responded dryly.

“My bad, any dead ex husbands?” Dakota paused. “Is that insensitive to ask? What about live ex husbands?”

“I’ve never married.” He looked down at his hands, letting his fingers entangle with each other. That’s something he’d like to say he’d remember. His voice softened. “Can’t say I’ve got much of an interest now.”

“Is it because without any blood you can’t, you know, _get it up_?” Dakota made some rather unfortunate hand gestures as he spoke.

Cavendish looked like he was on the verge of both tearing his head off and fainting. He spoke through his teeth, “My sex life is still, and will always be, none of your business.”

“I was just curious!” Dakota, sensing the danger for the first time, increased the distance between them. “Let’s just go back to talking about my werewolf stuff.”

“Yes, let’s.” Cavendish was more than ready to move on from this topic.

“On a scale An American Werewolf in London to Twilight, how does the actual transformation work?” Dakota pointed to his ears. “Also, are these just a permanent fixture? You could’ve warned me I had them before I left the other night. All the old people I saw on my way home were like ‘aaah monster!’ and all the young people were like ‘aaah furry!’”

Cavendish had calmed down by now, excited for an excuse to flaunt his knowledge on any topic. “I don’t have the very best information on your kind due to all the tension, of course, but it’s better than what humans have available. You really thought Twilight was going to help you?”

“Not really, I just think Taylor Lautner is dreamy.” He grinned like a dope thinking back on it. “Yeah…”

Cavendish cleared his throat to snap him out of it. “Anyway, transformations happen involuntarily on the full moon, and it happens the moment the moon rises, even if no moonlight touches you. There’s really no way around it, but a few older sources claim that with training, you’ll have more control over yourself in your other form and even change back and forth at will. Obviously, I have no way of validifying this.”

“We’ll figure that one out together.” Dakota’s smile was so sunny it felt like it was burning him. “Is there stuff I should be avoiding?”

He started to pace as he spoke. “Silver, of course, will burn you. If it gets in your heart, lungs, or brain, you’ll die. Luckily for you, no one is this era is packed to the teeth with silver bullets. Wolfsbane was poisonous to you when you were human as well, but now you mustn’t even touch it.”

“When would I touch wolfsbane?” Dakota scrunched up his nose.

“I don’t know! I’m just telling you what I read! Do you want to know everything or shall I leave out random bits I deem unimportant?” Cavendish huffed.

“Nope, my bad, keep going.” Dakota, seemingly satisfied with his impromptu tour of the manor, sat at the top of the staircase and motioned for Cavendish to join him. “Am I gonna wanna howl at the moon? More than usual, I mean.”

Cavendish reluctantly sat beside him. “You already had the urge?”

“Well, yeah!” He said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, have you seen the moon? She’s so beautiful that it makes me wanna yell a little. You should try it sometime.”

“I have better things to do than scream at celestial bodies.” The sad thing was he really didn’t.

Dakota nudged him playfully with an elbow. “It would get some of that stress off your shoulders. You and I should do it together sometime. We could be howling pals.”

“Sounds lovely.” His voice dropped with sarcasm. “Now can you please focus? The night’s only so long, and we have a lot of ground to cover.”


	3. Count the Hours

After that night, Dakota made frequent visits. Sometimes he’d have questions, but more often than not Cavendish was convinced he just liked having someone else around. If there were other people awake so deep into the night, he probably wouldn’t be with him so often. Cavendish wasn’t sure if he’d prefer that.

Regardless, Dakota had no trouble making himself at home wherever he was. They knew each other less than a month and he was already leaving his clothes scattered around the place. The only positive of that was it was helping Cavendish get used to his reek.

“Can’t you smell the vampire in me?” He finally asked one night.

Dakota looked up at him from his place lounging on the couch, some brightly colored magazine in his hands. “I don’t need to smell anything, man. I already know.” He cursed under his breath, “ah, fuck, you made me bite my tongue.”

Cavendish shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. Your sense of smell should be heightened, so don’t I smell different than humans to you?” According to the legends, werewolves had a much better sense of smell than their vampiric counterparts. It should’ve been Dakota being overwhelmed every time Cavendish entered the room, not the other way around.

Dakota was poking experimentally at his tongue to see if he bit himself hard enough to draw blood. Satisfied with his findings, he said, “I mean, nobody smells the same to me anymore. There’s not really a ‘human’ smell. Maybe if I met another vampire I could tell you.” He flipped the page of his magazine. “Or like, a really old corpse.”

Cavendish was too offended to press him any further on that one.

But his scent didn’t seem to bother Dakota. Nothing he did really bothered him, and part of that had to have just been Dakota’s unfazeable nature. Dakota’s lack of fear and questionable level of respect managed to be both irritating and charming. If nothing else, no one else had the nerve to tell him to ‘cut his weird gross nails every once and awhile.’

Cavendish was still asleep when Dakota showed up this time, characterized by two bangs; one of him slamming open the door and the second of him closing it a minute later as he recalls the dangers of sunlight. The action would almost be appreciated, if he hadn’t shown up so early in the evening that the sunlight would be a problem in the first place.

“HEY CAV ARE YOU UP YET?” He really did have a voice that carried well. Sometimes it’d be better if he didn’t.

“NO.” Cavendish shouted back, muffled through the wood of the coffin he was residing in. When Dakota first found it, he asked him if he was worried about getting splinters in his sleep.

“COME ON MAN IT'S THE FULL MOON!” He paused. “DO YOU EVEN OWN A CALENDAR? _DO YOU KNOW WHAT MONTH IT IS?_ ”

So that’s why he showed up before the sun had totally gone down. It was a pretty good reason, if not the best one, but Cavendish was tired. With a heaving sigh, he dragged himself up and started getting dressed. With each impatient shout coming from downstairs, he went even slower. Finally, Dakota just came up to find him.

“There you are!” Dakota sounded a little out of breath, and Cavendish wondered how many rooms he burst into before this one. “What’s the hold up, dude?”

“I was trying to sleep.” Cavendish finished buttoning up his shirt.

Dakota pouted. “I can’t believe you forgot! You said you’d be with me for my first full moon.”

“I didn’t forget. I’ll be right with you.” Cavendish said, feeling like an exasperated parent. “You can wait downstairs, I’ll only be another minute.”

“Fine, but if you take more than a minute, I’m going to come back up here and never stop annoying you ever again.” Dakota spoke over his shoulder as he retreated.

“You’re already doing that.” Cavendish shot back. He grabbed a cape. He didn’t forget promising to spend the full moon with Dakota at least the first time around, but he hadn’t been keeping track of the days. If this becomes a regular occurrence, he’d have to start.

Thinking about keeping track of time ironically caused him to lose track, and he realized the moon was probably already up by now. He made his way down his staircase. Dakota had gotten everything related to being a werewolf wrong so far, but at least this was the one thing he couldn’t mess up. He’d turn into a horrible bloodthirsty monster whether he liked it or not. Perhaps once the reality of the situation set in, he’d take the whole thing more seriously.

When Cavendish reaches the bottom of the stairs there was no bloodthirsty monster awaiting him.

Instead, there was the smallest, fluffiest dog he had ever seen wagging his tail furiously at him.

They stared at each other for a long stretch.

“Somehow, I should’ve guessed.” He sighed, wishing he was even surprised at this point. “You’ve been domesticated.”

“Wuff!”

Cavendish scowled at him. “You can’t say ‘wuff.’ It’s either ‘woof’ or ‘ruff,’ you can’t have both.”

“Wuff!”

“The hate I feel for you right now is stronger than any hate I’ve ever known and I hope that you know that.” He got closer to him, crouching down. “You’re not even a full grown dog, are you? You’re a _puppy_. You’re an embarrassment to your entire kind.” He pointed at him disapprovingly. Dakota licked his finger. “Yes, yes, I'm sure this is positively _hilarious_ to you.“

Dakota, seeming to realize that Cavendish was not going to give him the pats he desired, ran off to find entertainment with more speed than a dog his size should have. Finding his discarded tracksuit, he began chewing on one of his shoes.

“Oh, give me that!” Cavendish went after him. “That’s more disgusting than the stuff you usually do.” Cavendish gave the shoe a tug, but Dakota did not let go. He growled and tugged back, tail wagging furiously. “I’m not trying to play with you. Drop it.”

Dakota kept trying to pull the shoe free from his grasp. “You’ll never win this, my strength is far superior.” Cavendish could only feel so high and mighty while trying to bargain with a puppy. He yanked the shoe away as carefully as he could. He was annoying, yes, but Cavendish didn’t want to _hurt him_. Especially when he wasn’t even being annoying on purpose.

Dakota got low to the ground like he was going to pounce. “What? I’m not going to throw it, if that’s what you’re hoping for.” Cavendish stood back up and as he did he was struck with an idea. “Perhaps you just look odd, but still function correctly. Let’s go give it a try.” He gave the shoe a little shake to keep his attention. He led him outside.

Dakota looked thrilled to be out there, sniffing at everything and hopping around. “Wuff!” He barked, infuriatingly. But Cavendish’s attention was directed elsewhere.

A young couple was passing on the other side of the street, bundled up in coats and scarves against the stinging autumn night air. They were making idle chatter and were completely unaware of their surroundings.

“There you go, a perfect set of targets.” Cavendish crouched down next to Dakota. “Don’t be nervous, you’ve got this. Just sneak up behind them and make your attack. They’ll never see you coming.”

Dakota tilted his head at him, tongue sticking out. Cavendish sighed and grabbed his head, turning it so he’d spot the couple. His tail started wagging immediately. “That’s the spirit. Go! Kill!” Naturally, Cavendish wouldn’t let him actually _kill_ anyone. He’d step in if it got that intense. But Dakota needed the encouragement. He let him go and watched him run up to his poor victims.  They spotted him before he had his chance and started cooing over his cuteness, but Cavendish still had faith that he could pull it off.

Dakota, on the other hand, was not very interested in attacking them. He seemed more than satisfied with just getting pet by them. He even rolled over onto his back so they could rub his tummy.

Cavendish couldn’t pretend this wasn’t the most likely outcome, but it ticked him off that Dakota still wasn’t anything like how he was supposed to be. He stormed over, his voice coming off a little more pissed than he meant it to, “Alright, that’s enough.”

The couple screamed when they saw him, which wasn’t that unusual, but the one currently petting Dakota, a redhead girl who couldn’t have been much older than sixteen, scooped him up protectively. The other one, another girl of the same age with dark hair, did not hesitate from macing him in the face.

Mace would not kill a vampire, and the damage was not going to last very long, but it still hurt like the devil, so he reeled back hissing. The girls took this as an excuse to run off with their newfound dog.

Once Cavendish wiped the pepper spray out of his eyes, he realized that all three of them had disappeared. He blinked a couple times. He certainly hadn’t been expecting that. “W-Wait!” Cavendish nearly tripped over himself as he chased after them. So easily flustered, he was lucky that he didn’t have to deal with the spontaneous nature of humans often. “You can’t just kidnap him!”

The pair didn’t seem to care what he had to say, and kept running at rather impressive speeds. He quickly calculated the fastest way to cut them off and transformed into a bat, flying a few feet in front of them before changing back. “There’s been a misunderst-“

The redhead, panicking but unafraid, kneed him in between the legs. Her strength was surprising. “Get fucked, zombie!” She shrieked victoriously.

“I’m pretty sure it’s a vampire, but we can talk about that later, let’s move,” the girl with the dark hair and pepper spray was all but dragging her girlfriend away.

“Ooh, I’m not done with this creep!” She handed over Dakota to her and cracked her knuckles. “This is what you get for picking on puppies!”

“I wasn’t!” Cavendish held up his hands in defense. “I don’t mean any of you harm! That’s my friend!” The words came out faster than he could think. Dakota was most certainly not his friend, but if saying that would prevent his accidentally kidnapping, then Cavendish could swallow a bit of his pride. “Just give him back.” He hoped Dakota would realize the lengths he was going to for him. “ _Please_.”

The redhead exchanged a look with her girlfriend, suddenly unsure and acting more her age. “Is that good enough for you?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “My dad’s a supervillain. Technically this guy didn’t even do anything to us. So, yeah.” She placed Dakota down on the ground. “Here you go, mister. Don’t eat anybody or whatever.”

“I don’t eat people,” he muttered indignantly. But the couple were already walking past him, lost in their own little world again. He looked down at Dakota, who continued to stick out his little pink tongue at him. “Don’t give me that look. I didn’t mean any of it. I only did it so you don’t wake up in a pet shop tomorrow. A-and that means you owe me,” he said unconvincingly, as if the whole situation wasn’t his fault to begin with. “Let’s just go back. When the transformation wears off, I want you back in clothes as soon as you’re physically capable of it.”

His snarky comments were a little less fun when he didn’t get a playful response. Dakota just followed at his heels, curious about the world around him but content to stay close anyway. Cavendish briefly wondered why Dakota was coming with him in the first place, when those girls petted him and cuddled him to his heart’s content. Maybe his subconscious still preferred Cavendish. That was a silly little thought to have. Whatever happened was most likely nonsensical, as were most things related to Dakota.

Onice they were back in the manor, Cavendish let Dakota run around like a tiny madman until he tired himself out. After a good couple hours of it, he finally passed out. Cavendish promptly picked him up, moving him onto the couch. He bundled up his clothes and placed them next to him. Deciding his job was done, he was about to get back to other matters, but a thought took hold in his mind and wouldn’t let him leave the room. He reached out a tentative hand, double checking to make sure Dakota wasn’t awake before gently petting his head. He was unbelievably soft. 

Cavendish pulled his hand away, mentally chastising himself. He was being ridiculous. No, it was more than that. He was going soft. He wasn’t supposed to be pleading with high school girls and petting puppies. He was supposed to be a monster. And yet, watching Dakota fail so miserably at the same task while having such a good time was...conflicting. But he had made it this long without giving in to his feelings, and he couldn’t start now. If he allowed himself to act like that, then he’d have to face what he really was all over again. 

Dakota was still asleep when he transformed back. Cavendish turned away, not wanting to see that much of his bare skin. He wanted Dakota to get dressed immediately but was not about to do it himself, so he picked up the shoe they previously fought over and quickly threw it in his direction. He hit him right in the head and that seemed to do the trick.

Dakota grunted as he sat up, rubbing at his forehead. “I feel gross. And naked.”

“There’s an easy solution to one of those.” Cavendish waited as he fumbled with his clothes. He waited longer than he should’ve before asking “Are you decent?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’ve been dressed for a couple minutes.” In his defense, he still sounded very out of it. He must not have put together what Cavendish was waiting for.

Cavendish turned back around to face him. Dakota smiled wearily, “So you didn’t abandon me.” For a heart stopping second, Cavendish thought Dakota could recall everything that had just happened. “I felt something happening and you were still getting dressed but now it’s...what time is it?” Dakota waved a hand at him dismissively and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Nevermind, you don’t own any clocks. Shit, I should probably call in today.”

“You have a job?” Cavendish couldn’t hide his surprise.

Dakota made a face. “I’d ask ‘you don’t?’ But you never leave the house during the day and I visit most nights. How do you buy stuff? I guess you don’t need food or electricity but...you know what, I don’t think I want to know. If you ever need actual money, I’ll give you some, ok?”

“What kind of place would possibly hire someone like you?” Cavendish was still in disbelief.

Dakota sank into the couch. “Uh, pistachios. We package ‘em up and stuff.” He groaned stiffly, covering his eyes with his hands. “I feel like I’ve got a hangover. How was it, anyway?”

Cavendish sat beside him on the couch. He sighed. “You were a major disappointment.”

Dakota laughed slightly. “Coming from you, that tends to be a good thing. I was going to ask if you wanted to chain me up beforehand because I saw it in a movie, but I forgot.”

“That would’ve been fun.” Cavendish nodded a little. “But no, you would’ve slipped right out anyway.”

Dakota waited for further explanation, but he was done talking. “You’re going to have to elaborate on that one.”

“Ah, yes, well, you were only about this big.” He held his hands about a foot apart. “You weren’t even a wolf, you were some kind of baby lap dog.”

Dakota stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter, harder than Cavendish had ever seen him laugh. And to his surprise, he found himself relieved. _Nothing bad had happened. Dakota didn’t lose his laugh._ _His first full moon had come and gone, and he was still just him._ That wasn’t the sort of thing Cavendish thought he’d be relieved by. He thought he wanted things to change, for Dakota to change, but he didn’t want to lose this. “Are you serious? Oh my god, that’s hilarious.” His attention drifted back to his phone and he started typing, presumably texting someone about taking the day off. “Mind if I crash here this morning? I’m too wiped to go back home.”

“You’re turning into a permanent fixture on my couch,” Cavendish faked annoyance, secretly glad that he was staying. He stood up, already heading out of the room. “Just try to be quiet this time.”

“You got it bro.” Dakota gave him a thumbs up as he shifted to lay down. He groaned again, “is it going to be like this every time?”

“We’ll figure it out together,” Cavendish assured him, hoping Dakota was too sleep deprived to notice his sincerity.

Yes, it seemed he’d have to invest in a calendar after all.


	4. Not Exactly Haunted

Once the excitement of a new year dies down, January rolls by as gray as the slush in the streets. Even around Milo, the walking disaster magnet, it was a slow and uneventful month. With little excitement to be found, children had to get creative and make their own.

“This is the place,” Melissa was just a little out of breath, stopping her bike far enough ahead where she wouldn’t have to worry about the boys crashing into her, even if their brakes were to stop working or the likes. “I saw it a few weeks ago when my dad took me up north for that astronomy talk. I asked around and turns out this is like, one of the most haunted places in Danville.”

“So you’ve said.” Zack released his kickstand, hopping off his bike. He looked at the house in question. It was old, and dark, and definitely a good candidate for a haunted house. It took them longer than expected to get there, so the early dusk added to the eeriness. “I thought you didn’t believe in occult stuff.”

“Watching you two get freaked out will be fun,” she shrugged. “And if there’s any chance at discovering something that doesn’t exist, it’ll be with Milo. Where is Milo, anyway?”

They looked behind them to see Milo walking alongside his bike. He waved at them. “Sorry, got another flat. I’ll replace it before we go. See any ghosts yet?”

Melissa grinned as Milo caught up to them. “Not yet, but we’re still outside.”

“You want the three of us to go _inside_ there?” Zack raised an eyebrow. He did not have to voice his concerns to make them be known, as he was expected to be the reasonable one, which was a package deal with the one with complaints.

“No, not three,” Melissa shook her head, curls bouncing. “I was thinking we’d just send one in and test the waters.”

“No way,” Zack chuckled nervously. “We should _not_ split up. Haven’t you ever seen Scooby Doo?”

“Yeah, and they find the ghost everytime they split up. It’s foolproof.” Melissa turned to Milo. “I’ll buy you an entire thing of oreos if you can stay in there by yourself for more than five minutes.”

Milo was excited enough to go in for free, but he was not about to turn down an offer for free oreos. “You’re on!”

Zack tried to convince him it wasn’t a good idea, but he wasn’t deterrable. Ghosts were nothing to be afraid of. His dad always said as long as you were prepared, you shouldn’t be afraid of anything. And Milo was very prepared for ghosts. Flashlights, an infrared thermometer, jars of salt, night vision goggles, whatever you could imagine, he had it. He even picked up the Specter Deflector he found at the dollar store for extra security.

He carefully avoided the ice on the lawn, but his left shoe got stuck in the mud. He just yanked his foot free, getting his spare shoe from his backpack and putting it on. “This doesn’t count for the five minutes!” Melissa warned him from the sidewalk. He gave her an affirmative thumbs up.

“Knock before you go in!” Zack spoke up once he was at the door, a last minute worry striking him. “In case it’s not haunted and someone lives in there!”

“Good idea!” Milo chirped back, lifting his fist to knock on the door. Before he could, the lock broke and a strong gust of wind pushed the door open. “Ooh, spooky.” He disappeared inside.

The interior of the house was just as dauntingly Victorian as the outside, albeit a little better kept. If someone did live here, they cared more about internal cleaning than lawn maintenance. It was stuffy though, which Milo attributed to the lack of windows. He was always observant, especially when it came to possible escape routes. There were light fixtures on the walls but none were on. A bulb exploded as Milo passed by, but he was pretty sure that was only Murphy’s law and not a poltergeist.

He pulled out his flashlight, deciding that it would be hard to spot a ghost in the darkness pervading the area. He shined it up and down the walls, looking at the chipping paint and expecting quite a few more cobwebs than what he found. He continued his search, following the natural curvature of the hall into a foyer.

“Yo kid.” A voice too casual for a ghoul greeted him. He whipped around in the direction it came from, shining his flashlight directly into the eyes of a middle aged man lounging on the couch, a bag of chips on his chest. He used his elbow to protect his eyes. “Could ya point that somewhere else?”

“Oh, sorry,” Milo shut off his flashlight and lowered it.

“Thanks. Chip? ‘S sour cream and onion.” He held out the bag to him. Over the initial shock of seeing anyone in there at all, Milo took in the man’s appearance. He was wearing a tracksuit and a tacky pair of sunglasses that covered a good half of his face. His grin was sharper than it should’ve been, and though it was a little hard to tell in the low light, Milo thought he could see two animalistic ears poking out of his wild mess of hair.

When Milo did not take his chip offering, the man went back to eating them. “So do you always break into houses, or just the creepy ones?”

Milo was about to respond when he noticed the man was no longer looking at him but behind him, making a rather disapproving face. He glanced over his shoulder to see a ridiculously tall man in gothic clothes glaring down at him. He stepped closer to the man on the couch as this angry man started, “You dare to break into my home, acting rambunctiously and destroying my property, thinking arrogantly you’ll get off scot free, well I-“ before he could finish, he tripped over the carpet and fell flat on his face. The other man booed and threw a chip at the back of his head.

“That sounded painful, are you alright? I’ve got bandaids or an ice pack if you need it.” Milo asked, still keeping his distance. He wouldn’t want to make it worse. No longer towering over him, Milo noticed his gray hair and began to worry he just broke into a senior citizen’s house.

“Do not offer me your pity, mortal,” the man on the floor hissed.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just an old grump. His bark is worse than his bite.” The other man got off the couch, stretching and turning his attention to his partner. “Kid’s like, nine, he didn’t mean anything by it.”

Milo piped up, “I’m eleven, mister...uh…”

“Dakota,” the man smiled warmly at him. “Vinnie Dakota, Vinnie is just fine. This is Cavendish, who may or may not even have a first name,” Dakota motioned to the man on the ground, who had shifted to sitting up. “And you are?”

“Milo Murphy! nice to meet you,” Milo extended his hand for a shake and Dakota accepted it.

“Likewise.” He shook his hand, “Nice grip. Now how about you tell us why you came through here like a hurricane.”

Milo rocked on the balls of his feet. “Well, my friends and I thought this place was haunted, and we were hoping to see some ghosts.”

Dakota hummed thoughtfully. “There’s no ghosts here, unless I just haven’t found them yet. Cav, are you housing any malicious spirits?”

“Just you.” Cavendish spat and Dakota offered him a hand getting up. He took it and stood, brushing off his wrinkled suit.

Dakota nodded to himself. “So no ghosts, but there _is_ a vampire living here alongside the occasional werewolf. Still pretty good, right?”

Milo’s eyes widened with excitement. The only vampire he had ever met was Mr. Drako, and he wasn’t even sure about that one. “You’re a vampire?”

Dakota snorted. “Nah, I’m the werewolf, he’s the vampire. Thought it was pretty obvious with my ears and his fangs and his moustache kinda looks like a bat.” He pressed his index finger against his upper lip to mimic it.

“I just thought vampires were supposed to have eternal youth.” Milo’s thought-to-speech filter had never been that strong. He clasped his hands over his mouth. “I am _so_ sorry.” 

Dakota wheezed, having stopped breathing for almost a full minute as he laughed so hard he was silent. “Oh man, I love this kid!”

“Deeply sorry I can’t be as childish as him,” Cavendish’s voice was soaked through with sarcasm. “But I’m hardly self conscious about my appearance. That sort of thing is below me.”

Dakota shook his head, still laughing, “he’s lying, he’s self conscious about everything. Just the other night he was all embarrassed because I found out-“

“That’s more than enough, Dakota.” Cavendish cut him off loudly. Looking for a change in conversation topics, Cavendish spoke to Milo, “shouldn’t you be headed home anyway, young man? It’s late and you have school.”

“No he doesn’t, it’s Friday. Why’d I get you a calendar if you’re not even going to use it?” Dakota made a face at him.

“Well, it _is_ Friday, but I should also get going,” Milo tried soothe the both of them, used to being a mediator. “My friends are waiting for me. Ooh, next time I’ll introduce you to them!”

“Next time?” Cavendish crossed his arms over his chest but Dakota elbowed him.

“If you don’t work on that attitude, I’m going to end up being your only friend.” Dakota teased.

“You’re not my friend.” They both stuck out their tongues at each other like the overgrown children they were.

Milo smiled. A fan of romantic comedies, he simply adored couples who were so in love even their bickering was cute. “Next week we’ll visit! I think you guys will really get along!”

“Yeah, I’d mark it on the calendar, but I think it’d be pointless.” Dakota faked a sigh. “You need any help finding your way out of this cave? We should’ve turned on a light, your eyes aren’t adjusted to the dark. Not that I can see much through these.” He pointed to his sunglasses with a half smile.

Milo giggled. “No, I’m ok. I’ve got my flashlight anyway.” He waved it back and forth, until it suddenly caught fire. The adults panicked but Milo blew out the fire and returned the flashlight to his backpack, pulling out a fresh one. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a backup.”

“I’ve never seen a flashlight combust.” Dakota said, mildly surprised by Milo’s calm.

“Really? It’s happened to me three times already this year.” Milo said nonchalantly, testing the battery of his new flashlight.

“How come everytime someone breaks into my home, they happen to be the most unfazeable people in the world?” Cavendish shot an accusatory look Dakota’s way, as if his nature or Milo’s arrival was his fault.

“Because if we got freaked out, we wouldn’t be able to withstand your scariness,” Dakota smiled playfully at him. He was just joking, more than that, he was mocking him, but Cavendish still got flustered.

Milo was distracted from their antics, daydreaming about his situation. “Real live monsters! That’s more exciting than last month’s aquarium visit. Heck, maybe more exciting than the butter slide incident!”

“He just said heck out loud,” Dakota smiled, and the urge to adopt the kid was visibly growing in him. He turned back to Cavendish, “Why don’t you use fake swears like that? You’re old fashioned and just straight up old, that should be something you do.”

“Fuck you.” Cavendish answered simply.

Dakota gasped, cupping his hands over Milo’s ears. “Watch your fucking language, he’s an impressionable child!”

“Are you even aware you just swore or does it happen subconsciously?” Cavendish could not hide how amused He was with Dakota’s sincere misstep.

“Oh, fuck.” Dakota’s hands moved from Milo’s ears to his own mouth.

“It’s okay Mr. Vinnie, I already know bad words. With all the trouble that follows me, I hear them a lot.” Realizing how that sounded, Milo assured them, “Not directed at me, of course! It’s usually just surprised yelling and stuff like that.”

Dakota removed his hands from his mouth to mouth at Cavendish ‘he called me mister Vinnie’ to which Cavendish rolled his eyes and tried to mouth something back but the mustache and fangs got in the way of it being comprehensible. Dakota mouthed back ‘I can’t understand you, you’ll have to shave’ and then after a pause ‘Nevermind, I don’t want to see your upper lip, that feels dangerously Icarus-esque.’

Milo watched their exchange, too polite to point out that he could read their lips just fine and Dakota was actually whispering, so even if he didn’t watch he’d know what he was saying. “It was very nice to meet you both!” He waved, getting an enthusiastic wave back from Dakota and a slight hand lift from Cavendish.

Back outside, Zack and Melissa had played three games of chopsticks (they both won once, and they added so many rules to the third game that the victor was unclear), argued about whether or not a worm would become two worms if split in half, went searching for a worm to test it on, and then made the world’s smallest snowman out of the wet mush that littered the sidewalk. Now they were just waiting, and Zack’s worry was starting to gnaw at him. “It’s been double the amount of time you guys bet on. We should go in after him.”

Melissa brushed off his concern. “Zack, relax. This is Milo we’re talking about. He probably thought he saw something and sent himself on a wild goose chase. If anything went wrong, we’d probably see it externally. This house can’t be very stably built. At the very least, it’s not Murphy-proof.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? What if he fell through the floorboards or something?” Zack bit at his nails, further chipping the paint he had only applied two days ago. It was already mostly gone due to his nervous habits.

“Where would he go? There’s only dirt underneath.” Melissa cracked her knuckles. “Let’s go in after him anyway. I’m sure it’s more exciting in that dusty old house than this dusty old street.”

Just as they decided, Milo came back out the way he entered, seemingly unscathed. “Hey!” He ran over to them. “You’ll never guess what I saw! There’s a couple living here!”

Zack winced. “Ooh, that gives me second hand embarrassment. Sorry, we should’ve checked that out first.”

Milo shook his head. “No, no! They weren’t a normal couple! That doesn’t sound right, they were perfectly nice, I just mean they weren’t human. I guess human shouldn’t equal normal, that‘s hardly fair.” He snapped out of his tangent, “Anyway, one was a werewolf and one was a vampire!”

“Those aren’t real, Milo.” Melissa held up a hand before either boy could argue. “Mr. Drako does not count as a primary source for that argument.”

“They really were, though! They had sharp teeth and inhuman eyes and dressed weird. I said we’d visit again next week so you guys can meet, and they can prove it to you then!” Milo spoke eagerly as they walked back to their bikes. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten those oreos, Melissa.”

“How about double or nothing if next week they turn out to be a normal couple.” Melissa kept the wager going.

“What do you define as couple, anyway? Like, just boyfriend and girlfriend, or married?” Zack asked, less bothered than he would’ve thought by the idea of supernatural creatures living on the outskirts of his town. With Milo around, this was hardly the weirdest or most dangerous thing to happen.

Milo shrugged, thinking back. “I didn’t see any rings, but they were dressed like it was the 1930s or something. Maybe they didn’t use rings back then.” He got to work replacing his tire, so used to it he didn’t even need to look while he worked. “And I hope you’re a woman of your words, Melissa, because I accept.”

Melissa grinned. “Always am. Pleasure doing business with you, Murphy.”

As they rode off, Zack hoped whoever lived in that haunted house were prepared for the chaos that was their trio. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got to introduce the kids! Feels good feels organic


	5. Better Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any squeamish readers, there is a scene with injury in this chapter. It’s not overly detailed, but I thought I’d warn you just in case!

“Well aren’t you up early,” Dakota mused, pleasantly surprised. He tended to hang out for around an hour after arriving just waiting for Cavendish to wake up. But tonight he was already shuffling around when Dakota got there. “What’s the occasion?”

Cavendish straightened his collar. “It’s Friday. That human boy said he’d be back with his human friends. Did you forget?”

The look on Dakota’s face said it all. “No, no I did not,” he spoke slowly. To save face, he changed the topic. “Kid has a name, you know. You wouldn’t like it if he just called you vampire man. That just sounds like a really shitty superhero.” He thought for a moment before smiling a little, “kinda cute of you to wake up early for ‘em.”

“It would’ve been impolite for me to not be up for them, that’s all.” Cavendish deflected, embarrassed by the implication.

“I’m paying you a compliment,” Dakota laughed. “Though I guess your stubbornness is pretty endearing too.”

This was unusual. While Dakota was strange, he was predictable. He had patterns. He was always snarky and always unimpressed and always messy. But this? This just didn’t fit.

“Are you feeling sick?” Cavendish furrowed his eyebrows.

“What? No,” Dakota’s confusion was evident, thinking the question was non sequitur until it clicked in his head. “Sheesh, can’t a guy be friendly without causing a fuss?”

“I’d hardly call that friendly.” Cavendish didn’t let his guard down.

Dakota stepped closer. Too close. That wasn’t unusual, he never cared about personal space, but the feeling it gave Cavendish was. “Then what would you call it?” He could feel the warmth of his breath.

Cavendish stared at him for a moment, trying to make sense of it. He didn’t have a word for it. It was bizarre and disarming. “Hostile.” He finally decided on, and stepped back to return his space.

Dakota looked away, his face unreadable. With Cavendish’s social skills and his expression hiding sunglasses, that didn’t say much. “Whatever.” His ears twitched. “Oh, I hear someone outside. I bet that’s them.” He paused. “Cavendish? You hear me? There’s someone at the door. They’re at the door. Cavendish.”

“I heard you the first time,” Cavendish could not hide his aggravation.

Dakota started bouncing up and down. “Ok but there’s someone at the door. You should answer the door. ‘Cause there’s people. Cavendish, you gotta open the door. They’re outside right now.”

“I am so grateful I don’t get visitors more often,” Cavendish grumbled. “Must you act like that even when you’re in your person form?”

Dakota could not focus on his question, although the answer was obvious. “I am going crazy man, you gotta get the door.”  
“If it bothers you so much, why don’t you get it?” Cavendish cried in exasperation.

Dakota’s eyes widened, his tail wagging at light speed. “Oh my god, you’re right, I’ve got hands. I’m gonna get the door!” He nearly sprinted away.

Cavendish sighed. There were only a few instances where Dakota’s “wolf” side made itself apparent, but when it happened it was beyond annoying. Not that his human half was much better, but at least he was calmer like that.

Before Milo even knocked, Dakota swung the door open. He sighed in relief. “I don’t why I feel so much better but I do.” Dakota collected himself, returning to his usual cool demeanor. “Anyway, what’s up? Make yourself at home.”

“Thank you,” Milo skipped in, calling out into the house, “Hi Mr. Cavendish!”

He was followed by Melissa, who was sizing up Dakota. “Hmm. Mhm, mhm. Hmm.” She nodded to herself, rubbing her chin, deep in thought. She circled around him, then grabbed his tail and gave it an experimental yank.

The sound that came out of his mouth was not too unlike that of a squeaky toy. He then managed to vocalize “???” giving her a kicked puppy expression.

She was remorseless. “I’m not done with you.” She pointed at him, maintaining eye contact as she slowly regrouped with Milo.

Zack came in, apologizing for her, “dude, I’m sorry. She’s always like this.” He glanced around the room. “Nice place you’ve got here. Old school.”

Dakota peered out the door to make sure that was all of them and closed it behind them. Snapping out of his confused daze, he remembered there were three pairs of children eyes in the room and they’d need some light, so he flipped on the switch.

“They’ve got electricity.” Zack observed, probably not as quietly as he hoped.

“Hello, Murphy.” Cavendish came down to greet them. “I take it these are your friends?”

“Yeah! This is Melissa and Zack.” Milo made wide gestures as he spoke, nearly smack the two of them in their faces. “Melissa, Zack, this is Mr. Cavendish, and that’s Mr. Vinnie.”

“Hi.” Zack waved awkwardly. Dakota made his way over to Cavendish, warily making sure he didn’t turn his back to Melissa.  
Melissa did not ride her bike in the cold all this way to waste time. “So Milo claims that the two of you aren’t human.”

“That would be correct.” For once, Cavendish had not been thrown off guard. People usually noticed he wasn’t human immediately, although he didn’t stick around for a conversation. “I’m a vampire, and my associate here is a werewolf.” 

Zack tried to figure out where their relationship was if he referred to Dakota as an associate. Zack recognized that he and Melissa were new people, so they had no way of knowing if it was safe to discuss their private lives around them. But associate, compared to roommate or friend? On the other hand, Cavendish spoke in a rather odd manner. He’d have to pay close attention to the way he talked as he continued to search for clues.

“I see.” Melissa sounded less than convinced. “You realize, however, with the discoveries of modern science, vampires just don’t make any sense? You can’t go in the sunlight, can you?”

“That’s right.” Cavendish nodded.

“But the moonlight is okay?” She asked, feigning an innocent tone.

“I have to get out some time,” Cavendish reasoned.

Melissa grinned like the cat who got the mouse. “The moon doesn’t create its own light. It’s just a reflection of the sun’s rays. So why is it different?”

“I…” Cavendish blinked. After thinking for a moment, he bristled up indignantly, “I don’t have to answer that.”

“And why can’t you see your reflection? If it’s hypothetically because you don’t have a soul, according to Christian belief, which is what I’m basing this whole thing on due to the cross thing and the holy water and the origins of the myth,” she counted off on her fingers, “inanimate objects don’t have souls either. It’s a rather popular belief that animals don’t have them as well, and yet all those things show up just fine in a mirror.” She was on a roll now. “You hunger for blood, but you can’t bleed. How can your stomach function without a working respiratory system? How do you talk without needing to breathe?”

Everyone was looking at Cavendish now. He finally stuttered out, “your science can’t explain everything.”

“Like _what_?” Melissa asked confidently. She was certain she couldn’t lose now.

“Mystical things beyond your wildest imagination.” Cavendish said, as if that answered anything.

Melissa did not back down. “Name one.”

Cavendish thought for a moment. “Shapeshifting.” He said, sounding rather proud of himself.

Melissa snorted. “That’s not possible, either.”

“I do it about once a month,” Dakota offered up.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of concerns with werewolves too, we’ll get there.” Melissa assured him. “But on this topic, do you remember this so called shapeshifting? Do you have any recollection of it at all?”

Dakota scratched at his chin, “no, but I don’t think I’m supposed to.”

“So why do you assume you do the impossible?” Melissa argued.

“Because I wake up naked with the worst headache and it feels like all my energy’s been vacuum sucked outta me. Also I think I ate a squirrel once?” He shrugged. “I just know what happens right before and right after, and sometimes he fills me in on the rest.”

“Dakota’s vague accounts aren’t important right now, because I can shapeshift too.” Cavendish waved him off, wanting to bring the discussion to an end. He was met with a chorus of ‘you can?’ with various inflections. He was not expecting such surprise. A lot of the vampire stories got most things wrong, but the ability to change form at will was almost always present in them. “Of course. It’s as simple as walking.”

“Then do it.” Melissa egged him on, still not inclined to believing.

“Please,” Milo was barely able to contain his excitement.

Cavendish obliged and turned into a bat. Zack screamed, prepared for shapeshifting but not for tiny winged mammals. Cavendish was so pleased by this he failed to notice Dakota sneaking up behind him, ready to strike. He grabbed him right out of the air, clasping him tightly in his hands.

“Why didn’t you tell me you could do this? You’re _adorable_.” Dakota cooed, and Zack decided their relationship was passed just testing the waters.

“Unhand me!” Cavendish squeaked at him, which only incurred more delight.

“Your little voice!” Milo sounded like he was about to scream, but for a very different reason than Zack.

“You sound like a chipmunk,” Dakota couldn’t stifle his laughter despite his best efforts. “Is your first name Alvin?”

“That’s enough,” he grumbled, though it didn’t sound much like a grumble with his pitched voice. He transformed back, Dakota’s hands ending up on his lower back. They remained like that for just a moment too long before Dakota slid his arms back to his sides and took a generous step back, leaning back against the stair railing. Zack took mental notes. Fifteen seconds of standing like that, and the lasting glances? Things were certainly falling into place.

“That was amazing!” Milo was practically shouting. “You’re so cool, Mr. Cavendish!”

“Thank you, Murphy.” He tried to not let the compliment get to him. Feeling validated through a human’s fear was one thing, which he could only presume was perfectly normal, but wanting them to like you? To think you’re cool? That was a dangerous slope. Still, he could give the kid a simple thank you. That was just being polite.

Melissa, meanwhile, had been watching the whole thing slack jawed. Zack smiled at her. He asked playfully, “Was that enough proof for you? Because I don’t think I want to see what else he might have up his sleeves.”

“That was impossible.”

“Yeah, that was awesome,” Milo agreed, as if impossible and awesome were interchangeable terms.

Melissa shook her head, “I guess around Milo…” As if on cue, the railing Dakota was leaning on broke and he fell back.

“Are you okay?” Milo rushed over, peering over what was left of the railing.

“Yep,” he grunted. “Just knocked the wind outta me.” He stood back up, and this time all three children screamed. “What?”

Cavendish reached over and pulled the offending chunk of wood out of his shoulder, making Dakota wince. It _had_ been at a rather gruesome angle. Dakota whined, “warn me next time you’re going to do something like that. You’re too rough, I’m soft and squishy and don’t like you tearing things out of my body.”

“Somehow, I think you’ll manage.” Cavendish said dryly. “Would you kindly quit bleeding all over my home?”

“Build a better house and I won't have to bleed. What if it was one of them who fell?” He motioned to the three. “Then what would you have done? _Eaten them?_ ”

“Has anyone ever told you how horribly unfunny you are?” Cavendish drolled.

“How are you alive?” Zack finally gasped.

“Oh,” Dakota turned back to them with a smile, but then readjusted so his injury was out of their line of sight. “My wounds heal really fast, unless it's caused by silver, then I don't think it heals at all.”

“How does that make any sense?” Melissa wrinkled her nose.

“Hey, don't shoot the messenger.” He laughed at his own stupid joke, “or, you know, you could, since I'd survive.”

“I think that's been quite enough excitement for one night.” Cavendish spoke up, still holding the piece of railing at arm’s length.

“How are you not going crazy in the sight of blood?” Zack asked.

Cavendish made a face, similar to that of a child who had been asked to finish his broccoli. “It's werewolf blood. It tastes like dirt.”

“How do you know what dirt tastes like? Have you tasted it?” Dakota snickered.

“Spoken like a true kindergartener.” Cavendish rolled his eyes. He continued indignantly, “And I'm not an _animal_ , I don't ‘go crazy’ for anything.”

“Can you control minds?” Milo blurted out. “Dracula could control minds.”

“You’ve read Dracula?” Zack glanced at Milo.

Milo shrugged. “There’s a lot of stuff you don’t know about me.”

“Dracula could do whatever he wanted to, he wasn’t real.” Cavendish said unimpressively. The kids were not satisfied. 

“How would you know? Are you in contact with every other vampire in the whole world?” Melissa argued.

“Are you telepathically connected to every single vampire?” Milo ran his hand through his hair, as if the action could calm his nervous energy.

“Have you been reading our minds the whole time?” Zack questioned disapprovingly. “That’s not cool, bro. You need to respect people’s privacy.”

“Anybody know how to get blood out of a tracksuit?” Dakota spoke up, poking at shoulder, which had almost totally healed by then. His clothes were still ripped and bloody, however.

“I can’t do anything!” Cavendish finally shouted, overwhelmed. “I can’t read minds or communicate telepathically or do whatever the hell Dakota is asking for!”

There was a beat of silence. “Could you suck the jelly out of a jelly doughnut?” Dakota pointed to his teeth.

“That’s disgusting.” Cavendish sighed, exasperated.

“But you’re not sure?” Melissa required clarification, her grin growing.

“Doughnut, doughnut, doughnut,” Milo and Zack began chanting simultaneously.

Dakota already had the door open. “We’re going to WalMart!”

The kids cheered and ran ahead. Cavendish followed, tossing the piece of railing outside and shooting Dakota a glare. “Being with you is worse than dying. And I would know.”

Dakota did not so much as blink at the accusation. His smile was genuine, but softer than usual. “When was the last time things around you were so lively? Isn’t it nice to have people who could be doing anything in the world choose to spend their time with you?” He walked past him. “If you weren’t having so much fun, I wouldn’t be teasin’ ya, I promise.”

Cavendish did not have a response to that. He just stood there, watching Dakota catch up to the others, joining in on their playing as if it were the easiest thing in the world. Cavendish’s hand was over his chest before he even realized it. He clutched at the fabric. His shirt was so thin, and he thought about how little there was standing in defense of his heart.

And if it got staked right through, it still wouldn’t beat. 


	6. What’s in a Name?

It was the twelfth of February.

Dakota had drawn a dog with angry eyebrows in the little white square of the calendar. Two squares over had a little heart scribbled on it, and it was surprisingly easy to keep track of the dates when you couldn’t stop thinking about them.

It had all started because Dakota was telling Cavendish the unprompted story of his friend’s birthday party that he went to the other day. Cavendish was pretending he wasn’t paying attention, as per usual, but still pointing out the holes in the story where Dakota had gotten too excited and skipped little things. Really, he was a horrible storyteller, and Cavendish didn’t know why he bothered.

“So I told her that he had said that they had said what she thought she heard was actually ice cream cake.” Dakota finished, just as improperly as he begun. He glanced up at Cavendish, a thought crossing his mind. A vast distance to cross, Cavendish was sure. “When is your birthday, anyway?” His silence spoke volumes. “You don’t know? That’s crazy, even for you. We’ll just have to pick a new one.”

Cavendish frowned. “You can’t pick a new birthday. That’s not how it works.”

“It’s just a celebration that marks the passing of another year, so I think it’s totally fine,” Dakota reasoned, mind wandering. “I definitely took you as a winter baby, but we don’t have a lot of winter left right now. Really just February...ooh, how about the fourteenth? It’s Valentine’s Day, so you won't forget it again. Instead of spending the holiday thinking about how husbandless you are you can eat cake instead-no, you don’t eat-“ he corrected his mistake, “you can have a party. I better check to make sure there isn’t a full moon on the fourteenth.”

As Dakota checked the moon phases app he had downloaded a short time ago, Cavendish was unable to come up with a proper rebuttal against the whole thing. It was a ridiculous idea, and yet, he didn’t want to fight against it. Maybe it’d be nice to have something to celebrate.

Two days away from his birthday. He tried to swallow back a smile. What a silly notion. He didn’t even know how old he was. And even if he did, could it really count as a birthday if he wasn’t alive? Should he have counted the years since he died separately? That was a good excuse for picking a new birthday. But if that were the case, he should’ve picked the day he died.

“The day I died,” he muttered out loud to himself, ghosting through an otherwise empty room. Waking before Dakota showed up always felt strange. Some nights he didn’t show up at all, too exhausted and without any way to let Cavendish know ahead of time. He’d wait up all night, having nothing better to do than fear the worst.

But Dakota would always pop in the next night, with terrible anecdotes or silly questions or nothing but the offer of his company, and Cavendish had yet to turn him down. Tonight he was sure to show, since it was a full moon. The guarantee of his arrival was reassuring, and Cavendish pretended it was just for the sake of a set schedule. Full moons were rather annoying, but having his company without any awkward social cues to follow was almost enjoyable.

He heard the door open in the other room, knowing better than to wait by the entrance when the sun was still up. What Melissa had said about moonlight was still in the back of his head every time he thought about The Sun and it bothered him that he didn’t have an answer. “I’m in the foyer,” Cavendish called out. If he didn’t let him know, Dakota would search the entire house for him.

But instead of Dakota, Milo came hopping through the door, rambling, “I was worried I came too early, but I wanted to visit and this was the only day I could stay out late this week. Melissa had homework and Zack caught a cold, so they couldn’t come with.”

“Don’t you know what day it is?” Cavendish got over his initial surprise of seeing him. Having Dakota show up at his manor was strange, but now there were multiple people popping in and out. It felt informal and he wanted to hate it, but the change was welcome.

“Uhh...Friday?” Milo shrugged. “The eleventh? No, that was yesterday, it’s the twelfth.”

“The full moon.” Cavendish sighed, but there was an affectionate tone in his voice he couldn’t squash out. “You came to visit a werewolf on the full moon.”

“Oh!” Milo’s eyes widened. “That’s so exciting!”

“It is not exciting,” Cavendish scoffed.

“Is it dangerous?” Milo did not sound afraid. In fact, he sounded delighted. He was such an odd kid.

“Unfortunately not. Still, you need to think before you act. You might’ve gotten yourself into serious trouble. And even if you don’t mind, imagine how guilty it would make Dakota feel if he hurt you?” Cavendish lectured.

“You’re right. Sorry.” Milo rubbed at his arm, looking very apologetic.

Cavendish realized what he was doing. It wasn’t his job to keep this kid or Dakota’s feelings safe. He was acting like an overbearing parent. It was disgusting. If it made him throw up, that would answer another one of Melissa’s questions, if not raise more.

The door opened again, and Cavendish didn’t know how he could’ve mistaken Milo opening it with the way Dakota slammed it. “Foyer!” He yelled simply this time.

“Is he already a wolfman?” Milo’s eyes positively sparkled.

“No, it’s-I suppose it’ll be easier to just see it for yourself.” Cavendish gave up trying to explain.

Dakota entered the room, not visibly surprised when he spotted Milo. He waved a little. “Hey, Milo. You know it’s a full moon, yeah?”

“Mr. Cavendish just said the same thing!” Milo said, as if it were some sort of crazy coincidence.

“Well, yeah, I imagine he would, it’s kind of a big deal.” Dakota smiled. “You still wanna stay?”

Milo shook his head vigorously. “I wouldn’t miss seeing a werewolf transformation for anything in the whole world!”

“Fine by me.” Dakota laughed. “I don’t mind being looked at like a science project, just no dissections.”

“I wouldn’t, and Melissa might say she would, but she wouldn’t either.” Milo assured him. “That’s Just her sense of humor.”

“Good to know. Okay, you are going to wanna look away for this part, so Cavendish, could you cover his eyes?” Dakota turned away from them, cracking his neck in preparation for the body distortion that awaited him.

“That’s not fair!” Milo complained as Cavendish lightly put his hands over his eyes. “Your hands are so cold!” Unable to see, he tried to listen. The only sounds were grunts that stopped sounding human after a few seconds and some strange brittle snapping. Cavendish removed his hands and all that was left of Dakota was his tracksuit. “Oh my god, where’d he go?”

Cavendish went over and crouched down sifting through his clothes and revealing a puppy that was hidden underneath. He gathered up the clothes and brought them over to the couch, leaving the puppy. It spotted Milo and ran over to him.

“Is that Mr. Vinnie?” He was flabbergasted. The puppy-Dakota, as the process of elimination told him-rolled over onto his back. Milo reached down to pet his tummy. “He’s so cute!”

“Yes, he’s rather...unconventional.” Cavendish walked back over, looking at Dakota with disdain.

Milo looked up at him. “Does he still have the same brain, or does he think like a puppy now?”

“The latter. He won’t remember any of this, either.” This part was easy to explain.

“You must worry about him.” Milo said sympathetically.

Cavendish furrowed his brow. “Why would I be worried?”

“Well, he’s so small and helpless. And if he’s friendly enough to run up to strangers, that makes this form especially dangerous.” Milo rationalized, stopping when he caught Cavendish staring. “Uh...Mr. Cavendish?”

“Hm?” Cavendish snapped out of it. “Right, no, he’s fine. He’s a werewolf. They’re practically invincible.” He started wringing his hands together, more nervous than he’d care to admit.

“Well,” Milo spoke slowly, “it’s good that you’re here to keep him safe anyway. With a vampire protecting him, I think that’s the safest he could be.” Milo had stopped giving him belly rubs while he talked, so Dakota had uprighted himself once more. “Ooh, I have something I bet you’d like!” Milo began digging through his backpack, pulling out a tennis ball. Dakota’s tail started wagging. Milo gave it a toss and Dakota chased after it.

“Why’d you have one of those?” Cavendish asked him with sincere curiosity, joining him on his position on the floor.

“Just in case.” Milo smiled. “You never know what’s going to happen.”

“Maybe I should get one too. He seems to be a fan.” Cavendish watched as Dakota fought with the ball, being a little too big for him to easily grab in his mouth.

“You could have that one, if you’d like.” Milo patted his backpack. “I’ve got more.”

Cavendish wasn’t sure what he should say. “That’s...thank you, Murphy.”

“No problem.” Milo shifted so he could sit cross legged. He added, “You can just call me Milo, you know.”

Cavendish didn’t know how to tell him that he used last names to establish a sense of distance. If he couldn’t say to his face he didn’t want to get too close, then he was already too close. It was foolish, anyway, to think that a name would make a difference. “Alright, Milo.”

Milo smiled at that. Dakota returned with the ball, having finally conquered it. Milo stole it back with ease and tossed it again. Dakota went scrambling after it. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Depends on the question.” Cavendish responded uneasily. With how much Melissa’s questions had gotten to him, he wasn’t sure he was ready for more.

Milo nodded, accepting the fairness of that. “I just see werewolves versus vampires a lot, and was wondering if that was just totally made up.”

“No, that’s true. Werewolves and vampires don’t get along.” Cavendish’s solemn tone left little room to pretend he was kidding.

“Is that hard for you guys?” Milo swallowed. He knew all about getting dirty looks and mean things said your way for things you couldn’t control. He figured their groups wouldn’t be a big fan of their relationship to begin with, but with this added layer, they probably had to keep everything under strict wraps. 

Cavendish shrugged a little. “Vampires tend to exist isolated, so it’s not like I have anyone around me to disapprove. Werewolves usually come in packs, but whoever bit him never came back around, so he’s got no one to tell him how things should be except for me.”

“Did you tell him?” Milo’s voice was quieter than it had been all evening.

“I tried.” Cavendish tried to lighten it with a laugh, but it just came out a little cracked. “He wasn’t very inclined to listen.”

“You guys deserve to be happy.” Milo promised him. “And I think your love is a beautiful thing.”

Cavendish nodded a little before processing what Milo had said, and then he nearly choked. “My _what?_ ”

“This wonderful spark you two have between each other.” Milo held out his hands in front of his chest to replicate it physically. “In the face of such adversity it’s still so strong and you should be proud of that. You were obviously meant to be.”

“It’s not like that!” Cavendish stuttered. “He and I-we’re not-there's no way he’d-we’re just friends!”

“You don’t have to hide it from me,” Milo insisted. “I support it completely. I get that’s probably not much coming from a human, since I don’t know all the societal expectations on the both of you, but I mean it.”

“But it’s the truth! There’s no _romance_ here, it’s our friendship that wouldn’t be allowed! We’re-we’re not even friends! I'm just the only other nonhuman he knows! That’s the only reason he comes here!” Cavendish already knew all these things, and yet, his chest felt tight as he said them. Maybe a part of him didn’t want to admit the reality of the situation. Maybe he wanted to pretend that Dakota really did like _him._

“Oh my god, you haven’t told him?” Milo covered his mouth. “I’m glad he won’t remember this then. But it’s so obvious, you’d think he’d have already noticed. I’ll have to ask Zack what that could mean.”

“I don’t have anything to tell him,” Cavendish maintained. “I-isn’t it getting a little late, anyway? You should be heading home.”

Milo was, thankfully, quite easily distracted. “Oh, you’re right. I’ll call my mom, see if she’ll let me stay over.” Milo stood up, rushing into another room, already dialing.

“Milo, wait-!” Cavendish tried, but he had already made up his mind and was out of earshot. “I don’t even own a bed,” Cavendish heaved a sigh. There was no helping it, he supposed. Dakota brought the ball to him, dropping it in front of him and wagging his tail in anticipation. Cavendish picked up the ball, turning it over in his hand. “If you had something you wanted to say, you’d just say it. Not now, obviously, but any other day. Your self confidence is frustrating but enviable.”

“Wuff!” Dakota responded, just happy to be there.

“I knew you’d say that.” Cavendish gave the ball the softest throw he could, not wanting to break a hole through his wall. Dakota ran after it. “If only things were that simple.”

When Dakota woke up that morning, he was naked, but he was expecting that. He was not expecting little piles of books surrounding him on all sides. “Am I in puppy prison?” Groggy but delighted by the concept, he stood up with a groan. The stacks didn’t even come up to his knees. “Was I really that short?” On the other side of the books were his clothes, so he got them on, sparing the world that much of his skin. He scratched at the back of his head and yawned as he went searching for Cavendish.

He found Cavendish asleep sitting up on the couch, with Milo leaning on his shoulder, also conked out. He smiled, taking a mental photo of the two. He went over and gently shimmied Milo off of him and into his arms, trying not to jostle him too much. Cavendish woke up and looked at him blearily, mild confusion etched on his face. 

“Hey,” Dakota whispered. “Gonna get the little guy home. Thanks for watchin’ over the both of us, Cavendish. You can tell me all about it later.”

Cavendish leaned back and Dakota assumed he was slipping back into sleep, so he passed by, halfway across the room when he almost missed Cavendish mutter, “Balthazar.”

“What?” Dakota turned around, keeping his voice as quiet as he could. Cavendish did not move at all, and from this angle Dakota couldn’t see his face.

“You can call me Balthazar.” 


	7. No Candles, But You Can Make A Wish Anyway

“I don’t think I’ve ever wished I could use a mirror as much as right now.” Cavendish languished to himself as he tried to smooth out his waistcoat. It was the fourteenth, and that meant it was his birthday, and that could mean anything at all. He had no idea what was going to happen, but he wanted to look nice for it.

Deciding he had done as much as he would be able to, he sat at the bottom of the stairwell to wait for Dakota. He did not show up yesterday, but that was not unusual. He would be exhausted after the full moon, and couldn’t always take off work, so he needed whatever extra sleep he could get. Though if he did show up, Cavendish would’ve gotten to ask him what the birthday plans were and quell his anxiety. He was going to be anxious no matter what, but if he knew what was going to happen, he would’ve been less anxious.

On the other hand, Dakota might not have told him anything. He probably would’ve delighted in knowing Cavendish was overthinking his weird little plans. Researching birthdays wouldn’t have been much help either, since Dakota lacked any sense for tradition. He could have anything in mind. It was a tad exhilarating.

So, he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Hours passed and there was no sign of Dakota. He usually came around sunset when he was going to show, and now it was midnight. Maybe he was busy. It was Valentine’s Day, after all. Maybe he had a date. Some person who was just as witty and attractive as him had stolen him away for the night. Cavendish realized he didn’t even know if Dakota was seeing someone. Dakota had an entire life of his own that didn’t include Cavendish at all.

He found himself imagining a pair of lips on Dakota’s mouth, a pair of hands on Dakota’s waist, a pair of eyes that only saw Dakota. A pulse that could match Dakota’s as they sat in the sun. Someone he could eat junk food with, someone who was very good at all the things Cavendish was very bad at.

He stood up, trying to shake his head clear of those thoughts. It wasn’t any of his business. Dakota could do whatever he liked. But did it have to be on his birthday?

He caught himself. It _wasn’t_ his birthday. He didn’t _have_ a birthday. This is exactly what he was afraid of. He was getting so used to being treated like a person he was starting to forget he wasn’t one. Dakota was not obligated to do anything for him. He was the one who got carried away, letting his foolish hopes rise. He had earned this crushing sensation in his chest. That didn’t mean it hurt any less.

Time continued to pass and he felt worse, which made him just angrier at himself for the betrayal of his emotions, and so the cycle continued. Feeling more than what was preferable, he made his way to his piano room and started to play. This was better. This is what he needed.

He hit a sour note wondering if Dakota was home alone or still out with his Valentine date. It was late for a fling, unless it was more than just a dinner date. He tried to get back into the flow of the music.

Another mistake. How many nights did Cavendish spend worrying that Dakota had died when he was really just off exploring another person’s body? It was his own fault for worrying. Dakota was not close to him and never pretended otherwise. He started playing again, taking it one note at a time.

Then his piano yelled like a man and Cavendish fell off his stool. He realized the yelling was not coming from his piano, but his entrance way. Recovering from his fright, he returned to the parlor to find Dakota, panting like he just ran a marathon.

“I am so sorry,” he gasped out, volume too loud considering they were in the same room. He spoke quickly, “I had to close up so I was running a little late and I wasn’t paying attention and this dude hit me with his car. He was going to call a hospital and that was a good move because he _really_ hit me, like, it was ugly, but obviously I can’t go to a hospital or a vet probably so I just asked him to pay for my bike. That was when I could talk again, like I said, he got me good, but anyway the bike place was closed so he just took me back to his place and gave me his bike because I think he thought I was like, the devil testing mankind and if he didn’t appease me he’d curse his bloodline for generations. Something like that. Also I stole these from his yard.” He held up a fistful of smashed flowers. “Uh, for you. I know, they’re ugly and they don’t make up for it, but I really am sorry.”

Cavendish stared at him. Despite having to work late and getting hit by a car, Dakota still came as fast as he could. He was unbelievable. Cavendish couldn’t hold it in any more. He laughed.

“Shit, you must be really mad,” Dakota was mildly horrified, having never heard Cavendish laugh before.

“I’m not,” Cavendish waved him off, smiling at him for a moment with such adoration Dakota was stunned silent. “You’re just so ridiculous.”

Dakota smiled too, setting the crumpled flowers down on the nearest flat surface. “Really? You’re the first person to ever tell me that.” He turned back to the door. “Now come on, we gotta hurry. We’ve got a full night of stuff to do in like six hours.”

Cavendish followed him out into the yard where his new bicycle was. He had been in such a hurry he didn’t put down the kickstand, he just let it fall onto its side. Dakota righted it as he talked, “Don’t tell the kids I ride without a helmet, I don’t wanna be a bad influence. Okay, sit on the handlebars. We’ll be a little off balanced but I’ll make it work.” There was a bag next to the bike that he slung over his shoulder.

“Uh, no.” Cavendish quirked an eyebrow when he realized he was being serious. “I’m not doing that.”

“After everything I’ve gone through to get here, you’re really going to just say no?” Dakota pouted. “Come on, Balthazar.” Hearing his first name on his lips still felt borderline unreal. “That’s mean, even for you.”

“I am capable of flight, I’m not going to sit on your handlebars.” Cavendish was not easily swayed.

“Okay, well I can’t fly.” Dakota crossed his arms.

Cavendish sighed. He explained, “You ride your bike, I’ll fly next to you.”

“That’s…” Dakota thought but couldn’t find anything wrong with the plan. He let his arms return to his sides. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Dakota got onto his bike and Cavendish turned into a bat, and they both struggled a little to keep the other’s pace. After a few minutes of quiet while they got the hang of it, Dakota asked, “How come when you transform, you take your clothes with you, but when I transform my clothes fall off?”

“Mine is magic, while yours is a curse.” Cavendish reasoned, trying to ignore how Dakota snickered over his voice.

“But isn’t a curse magical?” He got no response to that. “Where do your clothes go when you change? It’d be really cute if you just wore a tiny version of them.”

“Thanks for the input,” Cavendish rolled his eyes. Dakota giggled more. “Are you going to do that everytime I talk?”

“No,” Dakota said, but he could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” Cavendish would remind him that he is a bloodthirsty and unholy monster, but he knew Dakota would find that as adorable as him calling himself cute and fluffy. A drop of rain hit him and he missed a flap, having to speed up for a moment to regain his position.

Dakota noticed the rain too. “Fuck me,” he groaned. “The one night I wanted a clear sky.” After a few more droplets hit he stopped his bike. “Okay, hang on, time out.”

Cavendish flew back, hovering in front of him. “What?”

“I’m not gonna make you fly in the rain.” He unzipped his tracksuit. “I’ll get us there, you just hide out in here.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Stop giving me trouble,” Dakota wanted to be annoyed but Cavendish’s squeaky bat voice was still beyond hilarious to him. He simply grabbing him out of the air again. He was much too good at that. Cavendish needed to work on his reflexes. “It’ll just be for a little bit.” He stuffed him in by his chest and zipped it back up, leaving it still a little open. Not that it was necessary, since Cavendish couldn’t suffocate. He figured Dakota forgot. He got back to pedaling.

Cavendish was too frazzled to do anything. Pressed against him like this, he could hear his quickening heart rate. The consistent thumping was rather comforting. And he was very warm. Cavendish wondered if that was how body heat was, or if Dakota just radiated it like he radiated friendliness. It was warm and soft and undeniably _nice_. Cavendish didn’t know what was coming over him, but for once, he didn’t fight it. He had spent most of the night emotionally distressed and most of his existence touch starved, so he let himself have this. It wasn’t like Dakota could see him. Afterwards, he could pretend it was horrible. For now, he could just listen to his heart beat.

He rode for another thirty minutes or so before coming to a stop, this time using the kickstand. He unzipped his tracksuit a little more. “Ok, we’re here. Just gonna...scoop you out of there I guess...” he carefully pulled the fuzzy creature back into the night air. “See, that wasn’t so bad.”

Cavendish flew from his hand and transformed back. “The rain has mostly cleared up,” he said, neither denying nor agreeing with Dakota’s statement. He looked around. They were on top of a little cliff, surrounded by trees on most sides. Everything was still dripping from the rain, and all the critters who lived there were asleep or taking shelter. “Where are we?”

“Uh, middle of the woods. I’m gonna kill you. I’m a serial killer.” Dakota deadpanned.

“You say that as if the smell of your body hasn’t already done the job.” Cavendish shot back just as easily, much to Dakota’s delight.

He grinned. “Nah, actually, I was just thinking you spend all day and night in the same stuffy house and a change of scenery could do you some good. I know you’re not into places with a lot of people so I thought some place outside would be nice, and the view here is pretty great when the sky isn’t overcast.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Cavendish turned back to face him. “This was a very nice gesture, thank y-“

“I’m not done!” Dakota stopped him. He reached into the bag he had brought with the bike. “I was hoping to give you this back in October or even November as thanks for talking to me and all, but turns out I’m a pretty slow learner. Also was hoping to make something a little nicer, but again, slow learner.” He pulled out a mess of blue yarn. He stood on his tiptoes and wrapped it around Cavendish’s neck. The movement brought their lips a breath apart, but he pulled away just as fast. “I know it doesn’t really fit your goth aesthetic but when I saw it I was like woah, that’s exactly his eye color. And I like your eyes.” There was a beat of silence. “Which isn’t really the point of a gift. I’m really bad at this.”

Cavendish lightly ran his hand along the scarf. “It’s very ugly.”

Dakota laughed. “Yeah, but it’ll still do its job. Your hands are always so cold I thought you could use some warming up.”

It was itchy and poorly constructed and the color really didn’t match his look at all. It didn’t feel very warm either, but he gave it a pass on that one, considering it was hard to compare anything to the body heat extravaganza he just had. Still, it made him warm on the inside. Dakota had thought of him, and spent months doing something he wasn’t any good at for him.

“You can finally get rid of that doughnut box.” Dakota smiled at him, and he realized what this gift meant. It was Dakota thanking him for giving him his help, and by extension, ending any need for continued relations between them. They had both fulfilled their parts of the bargain. It could be over.

“I don’t accept.” Cavendish said suddenly.

Dakota blinked. “What?”

Cavendish looked away, his logic childish at best, “You can’t give me one lousy gift and expect it to cover both my birthday and a thank you gift. That’s _cheating_.”

“Didn’t know you liked presents so much,” Dakota marveled, still lightheartedly amused. “Alright, alright, keep the doughnut box. I’ll come up with something else. Until then,” Dakota brushed his mess of hair out of his face and his eyes were on him and only him, “Happy birthday, Balthazar.”

“Thank you,” he tried to say it dismissively but he came across a little winded, as if Dakota’s gaze had knocked the air out of him.

Dakota didn’t seem to notice. “Let’s get back, sun’ll be up in like two hours.” He started walking back to his bike.

“Dakota.” Cavendish started awkwardly, not entirely sure what he was planning on saying.

“You know, if I’m calling you Balthazar, you can just call me Vinnie, too. You coulda called me Vinnie the whole time.” He had tripped up on Cavendish’s name so he tried a few more times, with differing inflections. “Balthazar. Balth-UH-zar. Bat-Uh-” realizing what he had done, his whole face lit up. “Batazar! Ha, that’s funny. Because you turn into a bat. It sounds like your name but it’s got bat in it.”

“I got it.” Cavendish scowled. “Nevermind.”

“Aw come on, you know you love it.” Dakota purred.

“I do not.” He insisted, “I don’t know how anyone could be in a relationship with someone as annoying as you.”

“You can’t make fun of me for being single on Valentine’s day when you are too,” Dakota elbowed him playfully. “At least I’ve dated in the past century.”

“I already told you, my romantic life is none of your business,” Cavendish folded his arms across his chest, but he felt too light to play grumpy. The news that Dakota wasn’t seeing anyone affected him more than he should.

Not that he had a chance. Not that he wanted a chance. But it was satisfying to imagine he was the only one who got to feel his heartbeat in a long time. That little rhythm was a secret they could share, even if Cavendish didn’t have one to match.


	8. Extended April Showers

May rolled in with an explosion of flowers and an overabundance of rain. When it rained at night, Cavendish thought about his birthday experience. He thought about Dakota’s warmth. He hadn’t felt strongly about any weather patterns before, but now he found himself preferring the rain. Even if that meant Dakota would be a little later and smell like wet dog.

The trouble with thinking about the time he spent with Dakota was that it always led to thinking about Dakota. And there were plenty of strange and captivating things about Dakota that could occupy his thoughts very easily. The worst of it was when Dakota would wink at him. He couldn’t begin to fathom what it meant, but that did not stop it from being on his mind half of the time.

The other half of the time was dedicated to his physique. Dakota was no prude, and had no problem lounging around in just his tank top and sweatpants. He wore a tacky gold chain and Cavendish would snark about it more if he wasn’t so _distracted._ Even more enrapturing than his arms and back were his hands. They were just so big, and Cavendish thought that sort of thing wouldn’t get to him, but the surface space they covered on the occasions when Dakota touched him always sent his mind spinning.

Cavendish often found himself staring at Dakota’s mouth when he talked, too. He wished he could pull his eyes away, but Dakota talked so much and it seemed like he wanted to draw attention to his lips. It was like he couldn’t keep that tongue of his behind his teeth. It was like Cavendish wanted it behind his own.

He’d fight against that thought, but he was having similar thoughts so frequently that it would be a pointless struggle. Even when he wasn’t being consumed by Dakota’s physical rapture, he’d get lost thinking about his laugh or his wit or his unfazeable friendliness. There must be some horrible illness caused by spending so much time with what was supposed to be a rival species. If that were the case, he prayed it would stop taking it’s sweet time and just finish him off already. At this point it was just being cruel.

He took to pacing the floor. The problem with spring, if you could set the general aesthetic aside, was that the nighttime was getting shorter. Getting visitors had put him on a schedule, and he was waking up while the sun still wreaked its havoc on the world. That meant he was spending more time alone at night, since no one wanted to accidentally murder him by letting the rays of light in with them. Which was annoying in itself, as it made him feel inferior to the others. He couldn’t ever see them during the day.

He wondered what Dakota looked like in the sunlight.

Finally the creak of the door liberated him from his thoughts. Melissa came in, setting down a bag on the floor. “Can I leave this here for now?” When Cavendish did not object, she took that as confirmation. “Awesome. I’m never going shopping with Zack again.”

Zack came in right after her, frowning, “It wouldn’t have taken so long if the shoe display didn’t fall on Milo. Or if the sprinklers hadn’t gone off. Or if that lady hadn’t managed to swap out her baby for a possum. That was out of all of our hands.” Following her lead, he stacked his bags on top of her’s.

“Glad she found her baby afterwards!” Milo chimed in, skipping after them. “Hi Mr. Cavendish! How has your night been?”

“Less eventful than yours, it sounds.” The stuff that happened to Milo was strange even to him.

Dakota brought up the rear. “Guess who I ran into on my way home today?” He motioned excitedly to the group. “Also, there was a lady with a baby possum.”

“We already told him that,” Melissa told him, slipping off her shoes. She got comfortable almost as he easily as he did.

Melissa and Dakota actually got along surprisingly well. Most of it was her daring him to do stupid things and him subjecting himself to it without hesitation. “Also,” Dakota’s expression was nothing less than betrayed, “You didn’t tell me I shouldn’t be eating chocolate, which was totally uncool. Melissa said I wouldn’t be able to eat a king size hershey’s bar and she was right.” A perfect example.

Melissa nodded with pride. “Easiest five bucks I’ve ever made.”

“It’s not my fault you’d eat practically anything.” Cavendish was unapologetic.

“But chocolate is _chocolate_. I think it’s safe to assume anyone would eat it.” Zack reasoned.

“Unless you have an allergy.” Milo pointed out, and received some affirming murmurs.

Chocolate. He knew that word, he had heard it before. Cavendish tried to remember it. Had he eaten it? If he did, there’d be no way he could recall the taste. From the kids’ reactions, he could only assume it was good. As good as human food could be.

“Do you even know what chocolate is?” Dakota’s ears flicked, noting his pause.

Melissa shook her head. “Unless he’s been hiding under a rock since 1900 BC, he would know what chocolate is. It’s possible his idea of chocolate is different than ours, though, seeing as it was a bitter drink until it reached europe hundreds of years later, and even then it stayed rather bitter until the industrial revolution. It’s a constantly evolving confectionary.”

“So what type of chocolate have you had?” Milo asked.

“His idea of chocolate shouldn’t affect this though,” Zack interrupted. “It’s made of the same stuff, if it’s not good for werewolves, it shouldn’t have been at any point in time.”

“Excellent point, Zack. Are you trying to poison Vinnie?” Melissa whipped her head back around to stare accusingly at Cavendish.

“He would never!” Milo objected on his behalf, believing both in his friend and the power of true love. “He just doesn’t have the best werewolf resources, that’s all.”

“Can regular wolves eat chocolate?” Dakota finally spoke up, and apparently that’s what had him so lost in thought.

“Since dogs can’t, and werewolves can’t, I’d imagine wolves can’t either?” Zack looked to his friends for support. Milo shrugged at him.

“He’s not an orthodox werewolf,” Cavendish reminded the group, “at this point, I’m not sure what rules apply to him.”

“If I were a meaner wolf, I’d be able to eat chocolate?” Dakota pondered, as if he’d have any control over changing that.

“I don’t know, I’ve never talked to a werewolf about their eating habits before.” Cavendish didn’t know why he kept having to remind him of this.

“Ooh, that reminds me,” Zack brightened up. “Milo relayed to us that werewolves and vampire don’t usually get along, so we were hoping you’d tell us how you met.”

“First let's go sit down,” Dakota was nearly pushing them into the next room. “No reason to stand around like a buncha scarecrows.”

“Have you guys ever seen a scarecrow explode?” Milo demonstrated it with his hands. “It’s the coolest.”

Cavendish followed them, pulling over a chair so that Milo, Zack and Dakota could sit on the couch. Melissa opted to sit on the floor, cross legged. Cavendish said “I can’t imagine why our first meeting would be of any interest to you all.”

“Well hang on, I think it’s a pretty funny story.” Dakota spoke up. “It was the same night I got bit.”

“That’s crazy,” Zack was in awe.

Dakota shrugged. “Not really, seein’ as I wouldn’t have ended up here if it weren’t for that bite. I was hurt, this house was close. Thought he could call a hospital for me. He didn’t, but it was okay. Probably better that I didn’t end up somewhere else, since anyone in their right mind would’ve called a hospital, and then I would’ve been found out.”

“So by not saving you, he actually saved you?” Melissa’s lips quirked up into a half smile.

Dakota laughed. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.” He gave Cavendish a thumbs up. “Thanks, Balthazar.”

“My intention was not to save you,” Cavendish grumbled. “I just wanted you to go away.”

“Well, I didn’t.” Dakota said, in a ‘and we all lived happily ever after’ tone.

“You left out too many details,” Zack whined, unsatisfied. He hugged his knees to his chest. “Did you know what the other one was right away?”

“I didn’t even know what I was,” Dakota admitted. “I don’t think that would’ve made a difference, though. I’m pretty much the same as I was then, just hairier. Even if he didn’t hate my blood, I couldn’t be scared of someone like him.”

Cavendish wanted to take offense to that, but Dakota had spoken with such an underlying fondness Cavendish decided he’d rather ignore it and then overthink it later. “I, however, did know he was a werewolf. That’s why I wanted him to leave me alone. The last thing I needed was wolf trouble.” He bit his lip for a second, but he gave in, “And while he has proved troublesome, he’s much easier to deal with than the average member of his kind.”

That earned him a wink from Dakota. It was meant to be silly but it made him melt. Cavendish cleared his throat, not going down without a fight, “It’d be nicer to not have to deal with a werewolf at all.”

“A human boyfriend would be worse though, wouldn’t it?” Melissa cocked her head.

“Either you’d drink all his blood or you’d eventually have to turn him,” Zack said solemnly.

“Don’t sweat over that, he can’t get any type of boyfriend,” Dakota did not pick up on the implication that he was the current boyfriend.

“Still managed to get you.” Melissa pointed out. “Unless you’re just under his evil vampire curse.”

“ _Get me_?” Dakota snorted. “You’ve got it backwards. The only reason he hasn’t kicked me out is because he’s a lonely old bat. Heh, bat. Because-“

“I got it.” Cavendish assured him, in a not very assuring voice.

“They’re not actually together,” Milo finally stage whispered to his friends. “Just friends.”

Melissa and Zack exchanged a glance that made it clear they weren’t buying that. Melissa couldn’t hide her skepticism, so she just asked bluntly, “Vinnie, are you in a romantic relationship with Cavendish or not?”

Dakota stared at them. Zack hid his face in his hands because he couldn’t handle the secondhand embarrassment. “A romantic relationship?” Dakota echoed. “That’s…” He looked at Cavendish, who wouldn’t meet his eyes. He forced a laugh. “Oh man, that’s so funny. We couldn’t-not in a million billion years.”

“We shouldn’t have assumed,” Zack groaned.

“It’s okay!” Dakota tried to convince them. “Really, that was super cute of you guys. It’s just-it’s not a possibility.”

Cavendish gripped at his pant legs, staring at his knuckles. He wanted to laugh it off like Dakota could. But he was scared that if he spoke up, his voice would waver and expose him. 

Melissa was going to say something, but felt her phone buzz and pulled it out of her pocket. “Ahh, my dad wants to know if we’re still good to sleepover, Zack.”

“Yeah,” he sat back up. “Actually, Milo, Melissa, we should head back. My mom was gonna order pizza while we were out, so Murphy’s law wouldn’t mess it up too bad.”

Dakota barely bit back his sigh of relief. “Alright, nice seein’ you kids, make sure you stay safe on your way home.” He led them back to the door, where they gathered back up their shopping bags. He opened the door and looked up at the sky. “Ooh, it’s raining pretty heavily. Are you lot gonna be okay?”

“Yessir!” Milo started pulling raincoats and umbrellas from his backpack. “I came prepared!”

Dakota watched the three get set up then head off. He shut the door and returned to Cavendish, who hadn’t moved. Dakota made no effort to hide his affection as he said, “Those kids are crazy.”

“No crazier than you,” Cavendish remarked.

“Should I be insulted by that?” There was the distant rumble of thunder that only their advanced perceptions could detect, and Dakota stiffened up. “Ugh, I hate the rain.”

Cavendish gave him a quizzical look. “Why?”

Dakota flopped back down onto the couch. “Not all rain, ‘course, I know the plants need it and all. It’s just storms like this. They make me anxious.”

Cavendish stealthily moved from his seat to join Dakota on the couch. He was honestly surprised. He didn’t think someone as laid back as Dakota could get anxious. “And why is that?”

Dakota laughed a little, but it was weak. “I think it’s a werewolf thing, ‘cause I used to be fine with ‘em. The thunder freaks me out. I know it’s stupid,” He braced himself for Cavendish’s taunting.

Cavendish didn’t call him stupid. He didn’t say anything at all. He just rested his hand on top of Dakota’s. Dakota’s fingers entwined with his. They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Cavendish’s mind did not wander far, only paying attention to the size and warmth of the hand wrapped around his. As the storm got closer, Dakota’s grip tightened.

After a particularly large bolt of thunder caused him to jump, Dakota rested his head on Cavendish’s shoulder. “I’m glad you saved me, Balthazar.” Dakota whispered.

Cavendish waited for the sound of thunder to cover his quiet, “So am I.”


	9. Attachments

“It’s so hot outside, I’m going to melt,” Dakota complained loudly, as that was the only way he seemed to know how to complain. Cavendish for once had no complaints, seeing as the hot weather meant that Dakota was swapping out his usual garb for tanks and shorts. Most were still that hideous shade of orange he seemed to adore, but the color was hardly what was eye catching. He had mentioned that buying new shorts was a waste of money if his current ones still fit, but it was a close fit, and they were entering short-shorts territory. With more body showing, his body hair problem was a little more obvious. As he told Cavendish in all too explicit details, anything he shaved would grow back by the end of the day. “How are you not a puddle when you’re dressed in all black like that?”

Cavendish walked past his place on the couch, cape swishing with the motion. Even if the temperature affected him, he wouldn’t give up his look. It was an integral part of what he thought made a vampire. “I’m not alive, I don’t do homeostasis.”

Dakota grinned. “You learned that word from Melissa, didn’t you?”

“O-of course not.” He lied, caught off guard by how quick Dakota saw right through him. He should be getting used to it by now. “You really think I’ve been around this long and I haven’t picked up any new words?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I think.” Dakota fanned himself. “Even if you don’t overheat, you gotta change up your wardrobe sometimes. You gotta-“ He snickered, and it took him a few times to get it out, “you gotta _revamp_ it. Vamp like, like vampire.”

“I understood.” Cavendish rolled his eyes. He wished Dakota would outgrow his love of stupid puns. “And what about you? You’re always dressed in the same horrendous colors, and it’s either a sweaty tracksuit or ill fitting shorts.”

“Hey, I already got my makeover. Remember?” Dakota took out his phone, pulling up the picture Milo had sent him. It featured a psyched out Milo and the puppy version of him wearing sunglasses. “He said I was the coolest dog in the world.”

“I’d say you can’t just wear sunglasses and nothing else, but I’m sure you’ve already considered it.” Cavendish thought for a moment before asking, “why do you wear those sunglasses anyway? Isn’t it dark enough without those on too?”

“Oh, I’m colorblind.” Dakota said casually, tapping the rim with a finger as he slipped his phone back into his pocket with his other hand.

Cavendish blinked. That raised more questions than it answered. “Pardon?”

“Do you-do you not know what that is?” Dakota sounded a little surprised. “Well, uh, I was born with dumb eyes that don’t register all the colors. These glasses make it so I can see the whole shebang.”

“I see.” Cavendish couldn’t hide how impressed he was by the concept. “So...that scarf…” He had said it matched his eyes, and that’s why he couldn’t resist it. Cavendish recalled the uncontrollable grin on his face.

Dakota laughed. “Yeah, I guess I get a little excited when it comes to color stuff. Can you blame me? I thought brown and grey were like, the only options for most of my life.”

So that’s why he chose such tacky colored _everything_. He didn’t so much as take hues for granted. There were so many things that Cavendish didn’t know about Dakota. And the more he knew, the more he wanted to learn. He never thought he could become so invested in another person. At that thought, he had to swallow down the fear that he was _too_ invested. Dakota was fascinating, but in a league of his own.

Dakota’s amusement faded as he remembered the temperature. “Ugh, can I put my hands on your cold body?”

“Absolutely not.” Cavendish mentally cursed himself for the quick reaction. Sure, it would’ve made him feel ridiculous, but it still would’ve been skin to skin contact, which should not be passed up so easily.

“You’re the worst.” Dakota continued to complain, but it was halfhearted. He stuck his tongue out, curious to see if that would help with the heat. Hey, it worked for dogs.

“I can live with that.” Nine months into spending time with Dakota and he had picked up quite a few phrases. It didn’t make any sense to say he could live with anything, but it was terminology that Dakota understood. And that brought them just a little bit closer. Which was worth being inaccurate.

“I wonder when the middle school goes on summer break.” Dakota said abruptly. He had a habit of letting his mind wander and thinking out loud only some parts of it, creating confused and jumbled topics. “They’ll be able to visit way more once they don’t have homework and stuff. Or they could just start coming earlier. We really need to get you a phone so we can set this stuff up.”

“Or you could learn to plan more than one day at a time.” Cavendish countered. “I don’t want a phone nor do I need one.”

“Whatever you say, man,” Dakota held up his hands in mock defense. “I’m just saying it’d be a lot easier if we had some lines of communication.” His ears twitched and he sat up straighter. “I think somebody’s at the door. Balthazar? There’s totally somebody at the door.”

Cavendish groaned, already heading over to open it. “I’m on it, just calm down.” He opened it, finding Milo, Melissa and Zack outside. Zack had his hand up like he was about to knock.

“Yo.” Melissa tilted her head in greeting. “Is Vinnie hanging with you?”

Cavendish pointed to his right. “Uh, yes, he’s just in the other room-“

“I told you!” Milo said, practically jumping up and down. “Whenever Mr. Vinnie is over, they know we’re here before we knock!”

“That’s quite the observation, Milo.” Cavendish hadn’t thought about it before, but it was most likely true. He couldn’t tell if there was someone outside from most locations in the place. But Dakota always knew, much to his own dismay, since it drove him crazy. 

“How does he do it? Can he smell us?” Zack asked, mirroring Milo’s astonishment. “Would he still be able to smell me if I put on a ton of deodorant?”

“He’d probably be able to smell you more.” Melissa wrinkled her nose at the thought of it. “That’s a good question, though. Is there anything that could mask our smell?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourselves?” Cavendish motioned them inside. By now he had grown accustomed to redirecting their questions to his laid back partner whenever he’d find himself overwhelmed.

“Actually, we came because we have a question for you.” As Milo talked, Zack pulled a twig loose from his hair. Milo turned to his friend. “Thanks!”

“No problem. Think you’re gonna be finding leaves in your hair and clothes for a week after that incident.” Zack mimicked the incident with his hands, but without context it seemed totally nonsensical.

“These two are convinced our teacher is a vampire, even though he’s nothing like you,” Melissa cut to the chase, kicking off her shoes and searching for Dakota. Spotting him on the couch, she took a running start and elbow dropped him square in the stomach as they both screamed.

“Nice to see you too,” He wheezed. He moved over so she could sit next to him. He waved at Milo and Zack as they followed her at a respectable distance. They were all used to these types of shenanigans.

“He’s not exactly like you,” Zack admitted. “But he’s got the telltale signs! He hates the sun, he’s super pale and wears a cape, he’s allergic to garlic, he’s got scary paintings of his ex wife. His eyes are normal, but he could just be wearing contact lenses! Am I forgetting anything?”

“We’ve never seen his reflection and he sleeps in a coffin!” Milo continued.

“We don’t know that last one.” Melissa injected.

“Well, if he’s a teacher, he’s definitely better adjusted than this guy.” Dakota pointed conspicuously at Cavendish.

“That’s a nice way of saying he’s conformed to human expectations.” Cavendish defended himself sharply. “I’m doing very well for a member of my kind, and it’s not comparable to your standards.”

“But another vampire in town.” Dakota smiled. “What are the odds?”

“So you haven’t even met the guy and you’re convinced too?” Melissa made a skeptical face. Dakota shrugged nonchalantly. “All the stuff he does has perfectly reasonable explanations. I wasn’t convinced before meeting an actual vampire, and now I’m even more sure that he can’t be one. They’re just basing everything off of old horror movies. Drako looks way more human than Cavendish, and he doesn’t have that bite mark.”

Cavendish subconsciously wrapped his hand around that side of his neck, fingers breezing against his hair. Just like Dakota’s scar, that was the one injury of his that wouldn’t heal. He couldn’t see it without access to a reflection, but he could feel it. He could always feel it.

“His name’s Drako?” Dakota looked at Cavendish. “See, that’s the kind of name I thought you’d have. Everything else about you is so classically vampire, and then your name sounds like candy dish.”

“Your name is a state.” Zack pointed out, unimpressed. “And not even a cool one.”

“Have you all come here, into my home, just to bully me?” Dakota complained.

“This isn’t your home.” Cavendish said heartlessly.

Dakota sighed dramatically, flinging an arm over his eyes. “Milo is the only one who respects my plight.”

The others looked to Milo, his loyalties torn. Even when just joking around, he didn’t want to let anyone down. He instead opted to change the topic back to where they started, “maybe you should meet Mr. Drako. Would you recognize another vampire if you met one?”

“Of course,” Cavendish said, offended that anyone would doubt his skill. “Though that could hardly be a group outing, seeing as if he really is a vampire, he would not be the biggest fan of Dakota.”

He was just stating the facts, but was met with a stiff silence. Dakota’s arm was still over his face from his previous gag, and he certainly did not move it away then. Melissa’s eyes were focused on the rug like it was the most interesting thing she had ever seen. Zack shifted his weight from foot to foot. Milo rubbed at his arm.

“I don’t think…” Milo started. “I don’t think Mr. Drako could…he’s not...”

“He wouldn’t.” Zack shook his head, but he sounded like he was trying to convince himself too. 

“We’ll just keep researching on our own then.” Melissa tried to play it off. “When we find out more, we'll let you know.”

He was not expecting such a reaction out of all of them. He thought the implication was already obvious. If he knew other vampires, he wouldn’t risk having Dakota around. Initially it’d be for his own sake, but if he were to meet some now? It wouldn’t be safe for Dakota. He’d rather never get to see him again than get to see him lose his smile.

“Milo, how are you not sweating to death in that sweater vest?” Dakota’s arm fell back to his side, determined to lighten the mood. Luckily, everyone else wanted to escape the tension just as badly, so they all followed his lead. All but one.

“Oh, I’ve got some circulation trouble,” Milo yanked at the fabric. “So I feel fine!”

“Well, I’m dying.” Zack admitted. “I didn’t know it was going to be so hot today so I wore jeans.”

“Wanna cut those into jorts?” Dakota opened and closed his index and middle finger to represent scissors.

“Thanks, but my mom would kill me,” Zack waved him off.

“You should tie them around your waist like a hoodie,” Melissa suggested jokingly.

“A denim hoodie would suck,” Milo added, pondering this deeply.

“Ew,” Melissa shuddered. “All denim sucks, though.”

“But you can’t bite through denim,” Dakota argued, “so it’d keep you safe in a zombie apocalypse. Balthazar, if you were a zombie, would you eat my brain?”

Cavendish sighed, finding the question to be pointless. But it did manage to distract him. “I suppose I would, Dakota, since that’s what zombies do.”

Zack gave him a disapproving look. Dakota faked hurt, “I thought you _liked_ me.”

“What else was I supposed to say?” Cavendish got flustered. “I wouldn’t be able to control it!”

“But you wouldn’t fight it?” Milo asked him in disbelief, and it felt like they were all in on some big joke. As if they were all expecting the same answer out of him over such a ludicrous question. 

“I would fight it.” Dakota said, as if that were the obvious answer. “I don’t want to eat your brain.”

“It seems like you’d be safe after all, since you don’t have any brain I could eat.” Cavendish snarked, which caused Dakota to break character and snort.

“He’d have to get through all your hair too,” Melissa reached over and grabbed his ear. “It’d probably be gross.”

Dakota swatted her hand away playfully. “I think your hair would be way grosser. And you’ve got so much more than I do.”

As the conversation ran its course and the manor was filled with laughter, Cavendish had the sinking feeling that if he ever found himself in a position where he’d have to send Dakota away, it’d be a lot harder than it should be. 


	10. He Was Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major warnings for blood and violence! More descriptive and gruesome than I’ve been in the past. Also thanks to everyone who reads and comments, and I’m very sorry for this chapter

“You’re late,” Cavendish said as Dakota finally entered. He didn’t mind too much, Dakota had things to do and all, but conversations had to start somewhere.

“Sorry, I was kinda distracted.” Dakota walked passed him, leaning against the wall. It was strange he didn’t find a seat. Obviously, he wasn’t planning on staying long. Cavendish wondered where they were going.

“I’ll forgive it,” Cavendish sighed deeply, knowing his dramatics could always make Dakota laugh.

And it worked, Dakota giggled. “What generosity.”

Cavendish allowed himself a small smile. “So what’s troubling you? I can’t imagine a lot goes on in your head.”

“Well, someone sent me a letter today.” Dakota said as he reached into his shorts’ pocket. “I didn’t know people even did that anymore. Anyway, it was this weird invitation and I would’ve been pumped because hey that’s fun, but it smelled funny and I needed a second opinion.”

When he finally fished it out, Cavendish covered his nose and mouth with a hand. He was all but used to Dakota’s stench at this point, but the smell of other werewolves was still disarming. “You received a letter from werewolves?”

“Werewolf! Ok, I guess that makes sense. Do you not like how that smells?” Dakota sniffed it again. “I didn’t think it was a bad smell. It’s, like, familiar.”

“I imagine it must be.” Cavendish stepped closer to read it over his shoulder. Dakota angled it so he could see it better. Cavendish read out loud, “‘Grown into that new skin yet? We’d like to meet you.’ Sounds barbaric.”

“So, what do you think?” Dakota crimped the edges of the paper as he talked. If Cavendish didn’t know better, he’d think it was a nervous habit. “Should I go?”

“Go where?” Cavendish furrowed his eyebrows.

Dakota waved the letter. “Wherever this smell leads me.”

“I thought you weren’t interested in being a proper werewolf.” Cavendish said, only slightly offended that Dakota was only uninterested when it was Cavendish teaching. He supposed it was par for the course. Vampires and werewolves didn’t get along, after all.

Vampires and werewolves didn’t get along.

If Dakota was hoping to find his pack, did that mean he was sick of Cavendish? Did he just feel stuck with him? When they held hands during stormy nights, did Dakota grit his teeth because he wished he could be with anyone else? Was their whole relationship built off of circumstances he couldn’t avoid as opposed to ones he’d willingly put himself in? 

“Yeah, but my friends are kinda alienating, and you don’t like me a whole lot, and the kids are great, but they’re kids, y’know?” Dakota turned to face him. “It’d be nice to belong somewhere.”

“I don’t not like you,” Cavendish tried, struggling with being honest with his emotions while also keeping up his cold facade. “I just find you annoying.”

Dakota laughed lightly. “Well, it sounds like these guys won’t find me annoying. So I think I wanna check it out.”

Cavendish stared for a moment, trying to think of what he should say. He had no real reason to stop him from going. The only danger was the selfish one of Cavendish losing him. And he couldn’t say that. “Fine.” He breathed. “You better get going.” 

Dakota looked up at him with an expectant half smile. “Are you...not coming with?”

“Me?” Cavendish sputtered. He was not prepared for that.

“Well, yeah,” Dakota said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s why I was asking you.”

“I thought...I thought you were just confused.” Cavendish admitted, somewhat sheepishly.

“Come on man, I’m not a complete idiot.” Dakota brushed it off. “So are you coming or not?”

“I…” Cavendish got over his initial shock. He looked away, getting quieter, “I don’t think I should. There’s no way they’ll accept you if you’re seen with someone like me.”

“I’m not trying to join a cult, I just wanna see what’s going on.” Dakota thought for a moment, then pointed to his shorts. “If you’re so worried about that, why don’t you transform and just hang out in my pocket? No one will see you. That way I’ve still got your moral support. And if they turn out to be really cool, then you can just change back and say hi.”

“Only if you promise not to laugh at my voice.” Cavendish crossed his arms. His newfound affection for Dakota did not stretch _that_ far.

“I don’t think I can make that promise.” Dakota gave him puppy dog eyes. An overpowered asset. Vampiric magic didn’t even hold a candle to them. “Please just come?”

“Fine.” He was powerless to say no to that face. Plus, he really was curious to see what would happen there. “Just don’t grab me. Your hands are always sweaty.” He turned into a bat and they struggled with getting him situated for a few minutes. Finally they got it right so he could peek out without being noticed.

“God, that’s adorable,” Dakota said before focusing, “Ok, I’m gonna try and track this.”

As Dakota headed outside, Cavendish thought about how much he didn’t think about his shapeshifting before. It was something he could do and he did often enough, but it was just something he did. Now it was like a parlor trick. It was infuriating, but it made him realize just how much of his life wasn’t normal. There he went again, calling it a life. Spending time with Dakota and the kids made him feel so different and yet he was finding himself fitting in, too. He didn’t breathe, but Zack was double jointed in his right arm and Milo was literally cursed. It made him feel like being strange didn’t mean he had to be alone.

Dakota reached the local park, and Cavendish was overwhelmed by the smell. Something flashed in his mind. A memory he buried. He tried to shove it back down, but it left something inside of him. Everything was telling him to disappear. He was...afraid. He forgot werewolves were capable of doing that to him. He tried to ignore it.

There were at least twelve of them, scattered almost casually around the place. “Hey, you guys know the playground closes at sunset, right?” Dakota called out to them. Cavendish didn’t know how he was so calm. “You’re gonna get in trouble.”

One jumped up from his seat on the swings. He was muscular and tall, his dark hair slicked back, which left his ears more than noticeable. He grinned sharply. “You planning on calling the cops, hot stuff?” He made his way over, his stride overconfident. “Glad to see you survived this long.”

Once he reached Dakota, he grabbed his face roughly, dragging his tongue up the side of his face. Cavendish would’ve been jealous if it wasn’t so bizarre. He felt Dakota tense up. “Woah, weird!” Dakota laughed, his discomfort dripping through just a little.

“Name’s Brick.” The man pulled away, licking his lips. “Now, it’s custom to wait a few months before welcoming a newcomer to the pack, because we all start a little pissy, and we don’t want to encourage that type of behavior, you know?” Brick paused for confirmation from Dakota, who nodded uncertainly. “Right. But it’s been nearly a year, and for that we’re sorry. We would’ve called for you sooner, but we thought a vampire got you in first.”

“And you thought he’d kill me?” Dakota asked slowly, his tone unreadable. The situation still seemed to be sinking in.

“Well you’ve met one, you tell me.” Brick said, and a few of the others snickered. Most just watched Dakota with unnerving stares. They were sizing him up. “You still stink of it, and it was what? Nine months ago? Forgotten what a shower was, buddy?” Brick slapped his arm playfully. Dakota laughed with him after a brief second of awkwardness. “But yeah, we thought we had lost you already! No offense, but you don’t look very tough. Didn’t think you’d be the one to make it out with your head attached.”

“Yeah, well, I’m alive.” Dakota’s face wasn’t visible to Cavendish from where he was, but he could hear the forced smile.

“So you are!” Brick bowed his head with mock respect. “And I know I couldn’t be happier. You’re home now, uh...what was it, Ohio?”

“Dakota.” Dakota did not feel so warm. He was wary. “I didn’t tell you my name.”

“No, you haven’t told us anything yet,” Brick said it like it was a shame. “But we had to get to you some way. Sorry for the letter, must’ve seemed creepy. We don’t have your number.” Everything he said was lined with a harshness, but Cavendish wondered if he only felt that way because of what he was. He imagined there was a bit of culture shock for Dakota, but he wasn’t in danger here. If he wanted to, he’d be able to fit in just fine.

“So do you guys do anything other than hang out where you’re not supposed to?” Dakota asked, shifting his weight slightly. Cavendish didn’t know what that meant. He didn’t understand Dakota. These guys did.

“You’re so cute, I just want to eat you up.” Brick flashed him another look at his teeth. “But to answer your question, yes. We do all sorts of things. We’re like a family. We’re better than a family.” His expression neared sympathy. “I know it must’ve been hard, all that time you were forced to be alone. But you don’t have to worry about that anymore. You never have to be alone again.”

“Sounds nice.” Dakota said, but his words were a little off. They were almost hollow, and Cavendish wondered if it was still just the shock. “Yeah, I like the way that sounds a lot.”

“Your struggles are over, Dakota.” Brick promised him, stepping closer so their feet nearly touched. “Can I see it?”

“It?” Dakota leaned back a little. Brick was a good head and shoulders taller than him.

“The bite,” Brick said, reaching his hand up under his shirt. Dakota seemed surprised, but not miffed. He let him carry on. “I wanna see how bad I got you.”

“You.” Dakota said, and that was all.

After lifting his shirt Brick laughed, almost cackling, as he stepped back again. “Yeah, that’s a good one. Mm, I remember the way you tasted. I bet you remember that night pretty damn well too, huh?”

“So you’re the son of a bitch who ruined my life.”

Brick laughed again. “Son of a bitch, that’s a good one-“ His laughter was cut short by Dakota’s fist.

As Dakota lurched forward, Cavendish fell backwards out of his pocket and took to the air. He didn’t think before flying away. He could not think. In the confusion below him, the only thing he noticed was how Dakota’s whole body was shaking.

Cavendish flew several blocks away, turning back into his regular form, knees nearly buckling beneath him. The sensation of a werewolf fight would not leave his mind. He could remember it so clearly now. He wished he couldn’t.

He forgot what it meant to be scared. And it was so powerful and he had given into it so quickly and he had left Dakota, he realized. He left Dakota with those monsters. He was so _useless_. Moral support, Dakota had asked of him. Just be there. And he couldn’t even do that much. The one time he needed him, and Cavendish vanished. There wasn’t a single thing he could do for Dakota. Useless, useless, useless.

He had to go back. But he couldn’t move. His feet were glued to the pavement. His legs did not listen to his brain. His brain did not listen to his heart.

_So you’re the son of a bitch who ruined my life._ Cavendish’s racing mind suddenly dropped all other thoughts. Becoming a werewolf was the worst thing that had ever happened to Dakota. It ruined his life. Cavendish thought that’s how he wanted Dakota to think. It was normal, it was traditional, it was the truth. But it _hurt_. It wasn’t supposed to hurt.

Dakota’s life was over the moment he stepped into Cavendish’s home. Every second they spent together, Dakota would’ve given up if it meant he could go back. He made the best out of the situation because that’s what he did, but he wasn’t happy. He was never happy. He couldn’t be happy. He had a life before and friends and a _chance_ and now it was gone. He had lost everything. 

It would be better if Cavendish disappeared.

There wasn’t time for this. He had to make sure Dakota was alive. His feet started to move again, and suddenly he was running. He ran all the way back to the playground, still and empty, as if the night had only been a bad dream. There was no sign that the wolves had ever been there. Except for the smell of blood.

They had left Dakota on the roundabout. It didn’t look much like Dakota anymore. Barely looked like a person. His expression was blank, frozen; his eyes were glazed over. It was hard to tell if he was conscious or not. It would be for the better if he wasn’t. But there were no burns, which meant no silver. They weren’t trying to kill him. They were just sending a message. _Don’t try something like that again._

Cavendish was crying. He hadn’t felt it at first. He didn’t remember he could even do that. But seeing him like that, knowing it was his fault...it was beyond upsetting. “I’m sorry,” He gasped. Dakota did not acknowledge him. He was pretty sure he wasn’t able to. He wouldn’t have been able to manage so much as a groan. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.”

And Cavendish wanted to pick him up. He wanted to hold him in his arms and promise him he’d be alright. Take him away from this place. Tell him he had a home. _Their_ home. Bring him back there. Sit with him as he healed, keep him safe. Be a better friend.

But that’s not Dakota needed. It’s not what he wanted.

He spotted Dakota’s sunglasses, strewn a couple yards away. He went over to them. They were broken, shards of colored glass everywhere. Cavendish picked up a shard. “I’ll take this.” Cavendish spoke up. He could not stop the tears from streaming down his face. “Instead of the doughnut box. You don’t owe me anymore.”

He walked back over to him. It was hard to look at him. That was good. Otherwise, he might never leave. He hesitated for just a moment before pressing his lips gently against his forehead. He could not avoid the taste of his blood but he didn’t pull away. 

“Goodbye, Vinnie.”


	11. Another Perspective

By the morning, Dakota could move again.

He sat up slowly, rediscovering how his body moved. He wasn’t burning with rage anymore. Whatever fury had possessed him last night had drained out with the blood. Now he just ached.

He looked down at his hands. They were trembling. He was trembling all over and he couldn’t stop. He felt like he had been kicked over the line that separated the living and the dead, and then stomped to a pulp on that side. His body was mostly reformed on the outside, but he still felt like a living smoothie.

They had been vicious, not stopping when he was down. Not even stopping when he couldn’t move anymore. He supposed since they were in the same boat he was, they knew what was going to hurt the most and what would take longest to heal. But he knew why they did it, even if the sadistic pleasure they took from it was unfounded. He had attacked one of their own. And he was angry enough to feel justified, until he realized he had put Cavendish in danger too. He didn’t know at what point he had lost him, but he was glad he wasn’t there for it. 

He thought he had heard Cavendish at some point. He could’ve sworn he saw his face. But in his memory he was crying, and that couldn’t have been right. Cavendish wasn’t a crier. He wasn’t sure vampires even could cry. It was probably just some twisted dream.

He stumbled to his feet, the roundabout creaking as it turned ever so slightly with his movement. He grimaced at the bloodstain. He felt sympathy for whoever had to clean the place up, but he couldn’t stick around to help. He gathered up the remains of his glasses and threw them in the trash bin, knowing that was the least he could do. He stopped with his hands pressing down on the lid, his breathing ragged. He still wasn’t fully reformed. The movement certainly didn’t do him any favors.

“Get it together, Vinnie,” he muttered to himself through his teeth. “You're better than this.” His argument wasn't very convincing. But he couldn't just stand there all day. So he started walking again, heading in the direction of his apartment. He could do this. And even if he couldn't, he had to.

“Vinnie?” He froze in place. He recognized the voice instantly, but part of him wished he was mistaken. She didn’t need to see him like this. “Jesus fucking Christ, what happened to you? Did you wrestle with a _woodchipper_?”

“Hi Sav,” he turned to face her, giving her a weary smile. She had stopped her car on the street next to him, and was rolling down her window, as if that gave her a better look. A pang of guilt hit him as he noticed her makeup and realized she was probably on her way to work. It was clear from her expression she would not be going until he told her everything. “Do I look bad? I feel bad.”

Savannah was Vinnie’s best friend, and probably the only friend who didn't talk behind his back every second she got. No one really knew why they got along so well, but they did, and that was all that really mattered. She was the one who he was protecting when he got bit. Now he had a face and name for the attacker. And a reminder of how strong he was. 

She glanced him over. “Well, you're limping around in broad daylight covered in blood that I can only hope isn't what’s left of your most recent victim. Your shirt is literally in tatters and you look like you slept in the woods. Is that how you feel?”

“More or less.” He laughed a little, but that just a sharp pain through his ribs. “Don’t worry, it's my blood.”

“Don’t say that like it's a good thing.” She whipped her phone out of her purse, typing a million words a second. She must’ve been canceling some arrangements, which just made Dakota feel lousier. “Okay, I'm getting you back to your place. Get in.”

“Could you just drive me to work instead?” The face she gave him made it clear that was not an option. He already suspected that would be the case, but it was worth a shot. “Come on, even a werewolf’s gotta make a living.”

She had accepted his half dog status like she accepted everything about him; not fully understanding, but still supportive. He rambled about his nights to her when he had the chance, but it most likely never made a lot of sense. She sighed. “I thought you were taking today off anyway.” She only got a blank stare in response. She clarified, pointing at the sky with a manicured finger, “Because of the moon?”

“That's tonight?” He ran a hand through his hair. He had completely lost track of time. “Fuck me.”

She reached over and opened the side door from the inside. “Just get in already. Someone’s going to call the cops on you if you keep creeping around looking like that.”

Too tired to argue, he got in her passenger seat. He stifled a groan as his body protested the change in position. “Blood should be dried,” he offered up, motioning weakly. “Won’t-won’t make a mess.”

“So many of your bodily fluids have already spilled in this car, it doesn’t even matter.” Her mind was preoccupied with something else. She didn’t say anything yet, driving him back to his apartment in silence. She tried to help him out, but he waved her off.

“I’m fine. Healing by the second.” He fumbled for his key before letting them both in. His place was on the small side, but it was comfortable. It looked a little more dismal without his glasses. He flopped face down onto his couch.

“Obviously not fast enough.” Savannah closed the door behind them and flicked on a light. She hesitated for a moment before asking what she had been waiting to, “You said that was all your blood, right? You’re sure?”

Dakota gave her a thumbs up. His voice was muffled by the cushion, “Maybe a little bit is this one fucker, but it’s definitely mostly mine.”

“So what the hell happened?” There was that tone. He knew that tone. He didn’t respond. “Was it a fight? Was it that vampire?”

“Why does everyone think that?” Dakota laughed, but he didn’t find it very funny. “It’s not like that. I’m fine, Sav. I’m still breathin’.”

“I need you to talk to me, Vinnie. Do you know how terrifying it was to see you like that?” No answer, but his silence was heavy with guilt. “I haven’t said anything about you running off every other night, exhausting yourself and breaking your heart. I haven’t said a single word, because I trusted you to make the right choices. I know stuff’s crazy and you’re still adjusting, but I can’t trust you unless you do the same for me.” She crossed her arms over her chest, but it was more an attempt at comfort than to show her displeasure. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry.” He finally croaked out. He found himself swallowing quickly, trying to will away the tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then stop hurting yourself,” She was nearly pleading. “We’ve already had this conversation.”

“I’m trying.” He admitted, sounding as small as he felt.

Savannah sighed. She could never stay mad at him for long. But her worry would linger. “I know you are. I just need you to try a little harder.” She walked passed his couch to his little kitchen. “How about you go take a shower and get into some actual clothes? I’ve got a meeting I can’t miss in an hour, but I’ll make you breakfast first and steal some coffee. You don’t have to tell me anything yet, but I’ll stop by later and give you a ride to that creepy place you like to spend full moons at. Okay?”

“You’re the light of my life, Savannah.”

“I know.”

When evening rolled around, Savannah had kept her promise and honked to let Dakota know she was outside. “Just a sec!” He yelled, giving his hair one final pat down before rushing out. He was basically back to normal now, and it was obvious in the way he moved. He joined her in the car. “You really don’t have to do this. I feel great.”

“It’s on my way.” Savannah lied. She was good at that, but Dakota could always see right through her.

“How were the meetings?” Dakota asked as she pulled out of the parking lot. “Boring?”

“Boring.” She agreed. “I don’t know who said men could run a business, but I’d like to have a word with them. But I still managed to stay productive.” She glanced out the window. “Is that the place?”

“Yep.” Dakota unbuckled his seatbelt. Traffic hadn’t been great, but they still had a good few minutes before sunset. He hoped he’d be able to get a word in with Cavendish first. “Thanks for the ride.” He got out of the car, closing the door behind him and practically running up the lawn. He reached the door, but when he tried to turn the handle, it wouldn’t budge. He tried again, to no avail.

“Uh, Balthazar?” He called out, trying to pretend it was just a coincidence. “Is something blocking the door? Is it locked? I can’t-“ his voice lost a little of its vigor, “I can’t get in.” He tried knocking. “Balthazar? Are you mad at me? Can we talk?” He waited for a few minutes. “Balthazar, I’m sorry, but locking me out isn’t going to help. Let’s talk. Let’s figure something out. We’re both adults.” He turned back to Savannah, trying to wave her away, but she would not drive off until she knew he was inside. He turned back to the door. “Are you nervous ‘cause of my friend? She just drove me here, I could ask her to leave.”

Dakota wished there was at least a window he could look through. There was only one on the entire house, and it was so high up he assumed it looked into the attic. He knocked again, a little more desperate. “Are you hurt? Did you fall and can’t get back up? Should I try to break down the door?” He was grasping for straws now. He turned back around, pressing his back against the door and sinking to the ground. “Listen, I know I was an asshole yesterday. I shouldn’t have endangered you. But you know I’d never hurt you on purpose, right? I was just being stupid. I was mad! But you shouldn’t have to suffer for that. I’m sorry.”

Dakota was greeted with nothing but silence. He hugged his knees into his chest. “You’re making me look bad in front of my friend, dude. Please just let me in.” He felt like he was going to cry again. “Please don’t let my stupid mistake be what ruins this.”

Savannah watched his stages of desperation from the car. It was kind of painful. The longer it went on, the more pissed off at this vampire guy she became. Who did he think he was? Dakota was a sweet guy but he was a pushover, and he needed Savannah in his life to make sure he didn’t get stepped all over.

She fixed her hair and cracked her knuckles, making up her mind. She wasn’t just going to sit there and watch any longer. But when she looked again, Dakota was gone. She blinked. She moved the hair from her face so she could look with both eyes.   
She got out of the car, hurrying over to the doorstep. There were Dakota’s clothes, and there was a little puppy who looked just like the picture he had sent her a while back. He didn’t seem to notice her. He was just sitting there, staring up at the door and whining. Savannah wasn’t a dog person, but that pulled at her heartstrings a little.

“Okay, that’s enough.” She patted her thighs, talking in a baby voice, “Here, puppy! Come here! Come here! Who’s my good little guy?”

Distracted from waiting for the door, He wagged his tail and hopped over to her. She scooped him up. “There we go. I’ve got you.” As an afterthought, she shifted so she was hugging him to her chest with one arm, and gathered up his clothes with the other. She then slammed her shoulder into the door. “Hey! _Jackass!_ Is this how you treat everyone who cares about you?! Vinnie tells me about what you put him through, and he might be willing to put up with your shit, but I sure as hell won’t! If you don’t stop playing these stupid games with him, then you’ve booked an appointment with my fists!”

Dakota whined at her. She had never had a dog before so she wasn’t sure how to handle him. She just treated him like a fluffy baby and bounced him a little. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re coming home with me.” She short one last dirty look to the house, as if the owner would somehow be able to feel her intended offense.

If it was up to her, Dakota would stop hanging around him. If he needed a supernatural resource they could find him someone who treated him better. Someone who didn’t take his devotion for granted. But it wasn’t her life, and it was Dakota who had taught her she couldn’t always be in control. And there was really no help for his bad decisions.

After all, he was in love.


	12. As Simple As You Make It

The ceiling looked the same as it always did, but that did not stop Cavendish from staring at it like it might change at any second. He was lying on the floor, bracing himself for what he could only imagine would be another night of some of the worst suffering he’s ever known.

Cavendish thought that leaving Dakota would be like tearing off a bandaid, once he got over the initial sting it would be over. But it wasn’t over. Dakota did not seem to get the message that he did not want to see him anymore. He’d stand outside the door and yell until his throat got hoarse, then he’d either knock or just sit there until the sun came up. Cavendish nearly opened the door on twenty occasions, but he managed to stay strong every time. If you could call locking yourself in the bathroom and trying to twist your arm off every time you’d want to give up strong.

The worst part of it was Dakota had convinced himself that Cavendish was mad at him and it was his fault. Cavendish was dying to tell him otherwise, but he couldn’t risk it. His final goodbye had to be just that: final.

And if that meant he had to let Dakota hate him, then he’d just have to keep acting detestable.

But the night wore on without any appearance from Dakota. Cavendish breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he had finally given up on him. The idea of Dakota never showing up again was more than a little heartbreaking, but it was for the better. And he had survived all those horrible nights which seemed to stretch on for much longer than just a week. Now he could just focus on moving on, consoled by the knowledge that he was finally able to do something right.

He hadn’t been feeding as often as he used to with all the visitors he had coming through, and the craving was starting to get to him. Now he was free to take care of that. He unlocked the door and slipped out. Just in case Dakota was only running late, Cavendish went farther from the manor and deeper into the town. He didn’t want to accidentally run into him. That’d be weird.

It was almost one am, so there weren’t a lot of people out. He finally found a man in a parking lot, searching through his trunk for some lost item. Cavendish snuck up behind him. Now this, this is what he was good at. This is what he was meant to do. Not acting as half of a comedy duo or some kind of eccentric uncle. He was a hunter, he was a monster.

The man closed his trunk, having found whatever trinket he was looking for. Cavendish followed him a few yards before clasping one hand over his mouth and the other on his shoulder, yanking his shirt collar aside to get to the bare skin. Just as he was about to bite into the guy’s neck, there was a shout from behind. “Hey! Get ready to run!”

Cavendish twisted to see Dakota standing there, and the sight of him would've been enough to make anyone’s heart skip a beat. He had a grocery bag slung in the crook of his elbow, and his hair was tied back in a messy ponytail. They met each other’s eyes. He still hadn't gotten a replacement for his sunglasses. There was something passionate in them he didn't notice when they were obstructed by the tinted glass. A wild kind of beauty that was hard to look directly at. Cavendish was so enthralled he forgot their entire situation.

Dakota made a little cross with his fingers, making Cavendish flinch and lose his grip on the guy, who scrambled off. Cavendish could've chased after him, but he was too offended by the move. Plus, Dakota might just follow him around all night if he didn't acknowledge him, scaring off all his victims before he had the chance to bite. “That's right! You're free now!” Dakota called out to the guy.

Cavendish didn't know what to say. There was a lot he should say. But first, in regards to what had just happened, he chose to say “What the fuck?”

“I should be asking _you_ that.” Dakota said, laughing in disbelief. “You keep your door locked for a week with no warning, and then you show up at my apartment building trying to eat one of my neighbors? What kind of message does that send?”

“This is your building?” Cavendish blinked and looked at it. He didn't know what kind of odds those were, but he had a feeling there had been some mischievous divine intervention involved. “It's nice.”

“It's not-not the whole building-it doesn't matter.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What were you thinking? If you're mad, that's fine, but you-I needed _something_. You can't just barricade the door and hope for the best. And what if it wasn't me at the door? Milo, Zack and Melissa are out camping for the week with their parents, but you wouldn't know that. You don't talk to them and you don't talk to me.”

“I couldn’t!” Cavendish protested, finding himself on the defensive. “I can’t expect you to understand it, but I couldn’t! I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now!”

Dakota’s ears flicked as his face scrunched up in frustration, trying to figure out some sort of compromise, or at least something to say. “Fifteen minutes.” He finally settled on. “Just give me fifteen minutes.” Not waiting for an answer, Dakota pushed past him and went to one of the doors, opening it up and going inside. He left it open behind him.

Cavendish’s logical mind told him he should leave. If he stayed and explained himself, it would ruin the bad blood between them. And if Dakota started looking at him with that fondness again, it would be so much harder to try and separate. On the other hand, he felt like he owed Dakota this much. He could handle fifteen minutes.

Cavendish stood in the doorframe. Things felt too tense to ask Dakota to let him in, so he just waited there for Dakota to put his grocery bag where he needed to. Dakota pulled the scrunchie out of his hair, and it instantly fluffed back up. He ran a hand through it, in a halfhearted attempt to smooth it down and gather himself. He turned towards Cavendish. They stared at each other for a moment. “Are you just gonna stand there?”

Cavendish wrung his hands together. “I, uh, I need explicit permission. Just leaving the door open doesn’t count as an invitation.”

Dakota looked away as he tried to stop himself from laughing. He had missed this. He had missed him. “What exactly do you need? Do I gotta use my full name?”

“A simple ‘come in’ will work just fine.” Cavendish asked, but then realized he just passed up on an opportunity to find out if Vinnie was short for something. He tried to shake that thought, but after how attached he had gotten, it was hard to pretend there was distance between them.

“Then come on in,” Dakota gestured, “make yourself at home. I’d offer you food, but you don’t eat and everything I’ve got is empty carbs. And beef jerky, but I’m gonna eat that like, right now.” As promised, he tore open a bag and shoved a handful in his mouth. “I’m gonna end up just eating raw meat one of these days but I’m trying to keep things moderate. Not that I know what that word means in relation to food. Always been a stress eater, and life’s always stressful.”

“Right.” Cavendish said, not knowing what else to say and distracted by finally seeing where he lived. The whole place smelled like him. Cavendish didn’t realize he missed that smell. He positioned himself so he could lean against the back of the couch as Dakota did a little hop so he could sit on his counter. “So.”

“So.” Dakota echoed as he watched him, tail swishing lazily.

The awkwardness was overwhelming. Cavendish didn’t know how to begin. He forced a smile, hoping his nervousness didn’t show, “You look better! Less, uh…”

“Like a dumpster fire?” Dakota finished for him. “So you did see me.”

Cavendish blinked. “Well of course. Didn’t you hear me bid you farewell?”

“I don’t know what I heard.” Dakota looked away, biting into more jerky, treating it like an excuse to not have to talk. But then Cavendish did not speak up either, so he had no choice. “Look, I came by every night since then. I don’t know if you heard me, but I was being pretty loud. I scared a lot of birds.”

“No, I heard you. You were quite loud. I heard the birds too.” Cavendish nodded.

“And _I tried_ to apologize,” Dakota placed a hand over his chest. “I know I was being selfish and I put you at risk, but I need you to forgive me or...not. I was gonna give you a little space, but then you showed up here.”

“There’s no reason for you to apologize.” He had to admit, it felt good to finally say that. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why are you so mad?” There was an edge of hopelessness in his tone. His lack of sleep was becoming more apparent on his face.

“I’m not mad! I was never mad at you, Dakota.” Cavendish promised, trying to sound supportive. “You were just so mad, it made me realize that I was holding you back. You can’t ever be human again, but you can still salvage what you had! You can get your friends back and you can get your life back! Sure, one night out of the month you’ll want to be in a room with closed doors, but that’s a lot better than how a lot of werewolves have it! You’re so easygoing and adaptable that I’m sure you’ll figure out something perfect in no time!”

Dakota stared at him for a moment. He put the bag down, crinkling it as he chewed slowly. He had finished off the whole bag during their conversation. Finally, he spoke, “Why would I wanna do that?”

“Because that Brick guy ruined your life. You said it yourself.” Cavendish faltered slightly. The memory still wasn’t one he was a big fan of. 

“And you think that means I wanna stop hanging out with you?” He slid off the counter and walked over to Cavendish, cupping his hands around his cheeks. Cavendish could not move if he wanted to. He forgot how close Dakota would get. Dakota shook his head slightly. “Are you really that dumb? Balthazar, you’re the best thing that came out of this whole mess.”

“I am?” He could not manage any better than a squeak.

“Oh my god, yes,” Dakota drawled, moving his hands to his shoulders so he could press the top of his head against his chest. There was that warmth of his. “I can’t believe that was what this was all about. I thought you just hated me or something.”

“I…” Cavendish looked down at him. He smiled, speaking softly, “I don’t think I could ever hate you.”

“That’s the best news I’ve gotten all week.” Dakota’s tail started wagging, picking up speed exponentially. “And for the record, my life isn’t _ruined_. I was just angry at him for attacking me and my friend. I’ve been having a pretty decent time, all things considered.”

Cavendish realized he had no idea where to put his hands. He considered hugging him, but that might be too forward. “Am I forgiven for my stupidity, or should I go outside and yell for a couple days?”

Dakota laughed. “I think I did enough of that for the both of us.” He paused, but couldn’t keep his laughter in, “was that a good acceptance of your apology, or do you need a formal one?”

Cavendish shrugged, playing along. It felt good to do that again. “You’ll have to consult the vampire high council on that.” As he talked, his hands decided where they wanted to be and landed on Dakota’s head before he gave them permission.

“Are you...petting me?” Dakota asked, sounding even more amused.

“No.” Cavendish lied, rather pointlessly. There was no other explanation for what he was doing. But, at the very least, Dakota did not seem completely weirded out. In fact, he appeared to like it. 

“Alright, then you can keep not petting me on the couch and I could not throw on a movie?” Dakota offered. Or, not offered.

“Sounds terrible.” Cavendish agreed and sat beside him. Their legs were pressed together, and it was casual but more intimate than Cavendish could handle.

Dakota flipped through the channels before finding something he liked. “Oh fuck, I love this movie. We missed the first thirty minutes but that’s okay. If you’re confused I can explain what’s going on.” He shuffled closer to Cavendish, head on his shoulder for easy petting. “I know you say we’re supposed to fight like, all the time, but fighting with you sucks. How about instead of trying to be a werewolf and a vampire, we just be Vinnie and Balthazar?”

“I think that’s what we’re best at,” Cavendish hummed as he went back to stroking his ears.

And for the few hours before the mad dash for morning, they were just Vinnie and Balthazar. And for the first time in a long time, everything felt like it was going to be alright.


	13. I Haven’t Heard That One

Cavendish woke up to Dakota poking him in the eye. He didn’t remember going to sleep, but he swatted his finger away. “Would you stop that?” He hissed.

“You sleep so much dude. Is that normal or are you just like, exhausted?” Dakota was pressed up against him, and Cavendish realized that’s how he fell asleep. Dakota droning on over that ridiculous movie, warm and soft against him. He wondered how long Dakota had waited to wake him. He realized shortly after how that could be a problem.

“What time is it?” Cavendish asked, not pulling away like he normally would. The closeness wasn’t bad, even if it’s what got them in this situation in the first place. 

“That’s the problem.” Dakota offered him a semi apologetic smile. “I didn’t notice you were asleep and then I didn’t want to wake you and I totally lost track of time so you’re probably gonna have to stay here for the day.”

Dakota got up and disappeared into an adjacent room. He continued, loud enough so Cavendish could hear him in the other room, “I’ve got good light blocking curtains in here so you can hang out in my bedroom, since I gotta use the door in the front room. ‘Cause like, I have a job. You know how it is. Actually, I guess you don’t. But still.”

Dakota’s bedroom. That felt forbidden. But he didn’t have many other options. Although, on that topic, a quick and horrible death probably would be less awkward.

“Get in here!” Dakota yelled again. Cavendish obeyed reluctantly, trying to not look at anything. “Sorry it's a mess, I haven’t had company for a while. Except for Savannah, but we’ve been friends long enough where she doesn’t expect anything more of me. But yeah, you can just...” Dakota awkwardly smoothed out the blanket on his unmade bed. “Sleep here, and you won’t even have to worry about splinters like in your coffin. If you’re missing your coffin, you could just...uh…”

Dakota laid down on the bed, grabbing the blanket and rolling so he could cocoon himself in it. He nearly rolled right off the bed but caught himself at the last moment. “Like this! Just like home, right?”

“Don’t you have to go be stupid somewhere else?” Cavendish watched him, unamused.

“Shit, you’re right.” Dakota unrolled himself just as fast as he had done the reverse. He then threw off his tank top.

“What are you doing?” Cavendish sputtered, mind straying to the movie last night. When the spy girl invited the man into her bedroom, it had gone similarly to this, just less blanket burritos.

“I’m not going to wear the same clothes two days in a row, that’s gross.” He went over to his dresser, shuffling around. “I mean, I’ve totally done it before, but that was when I was clinically depressed. Now I have energy!”

Cavendish covered his eyes, letting his gaze linger a little too long. “Whatever. Just hurry up. Couldn’t you have done this while I was in the other room?”

“I’m not a psychic Balthazar, I can’t think that far ahead. Ok, I’m dressed. How do you say it? I’m mediocre?”

“Decent.” Cavendish corrected him, removing his hands. If he hadn’t watched part of the changing process, he wouldn’t believe Dakota was actually wearing new clothes. They were identical to his last outfit. “You say ‘I’m decent.’”

“Okay, so you just hang out here.” Dakota grabbed his arms and gently walked him over to the bed, pushing slightly until Cavendish got the memo and sat down. “Uh, if you need anything, you can call my cell from the landline. It’s labeled ‘me,’ because it’s my phone.” He paused. “Do you know how to use a phone?”

“Yes.” Cavendish lied. It couldn’t be that hard to figure out.

“Awesome.” Dakota absentmindedly patted his arms before letting go. “Stay in here, but I’ll knock before entering just in case you’re wandering around. Obviously just yell if I can’t come in yet. No one else should come by, because they know I’m at work. If you hear knocking that isn’t me just don’t respond and they’ll go away. Okay, I think that’s it. Is that it?”  
Cavendish had no idea how Dakota thought he would know. He just played along. “I think that’s it.”

“Great! Awesome.” Dakota was walking out of the room. “Okay! Bye. Love ya.”

And then he left, as if that was a reasonable thing to leave Cavendish with.

So instead of sleeping, Cavendish thought about that for hours. Not only was he staying the night (his equivalent, at least) in Dakota’s _bedroom_ , But Dakota just told him he loved him. But it wasn’t an ‘I love you.’ It wasn’t even a ‘love you,’ he distinctly said ‘love ya.’ That was too casual for a confession, but then again, Dakota was very casual. Maybe that was just how he rolled.

But Dakota was a platonically affectionate guy. Was he the sort of person who told his friends he loved them? That would make sense. But he had never said it to Cavendish before. Maybe it was just an occasional thing. Every once and a while he might send his friends on an emotional rollercoaster just for kicks.

Or maybe it was a new custom that Cavendish didn’t know about. Maybe whenever you leave your house when you have people over you profess your love. Just the general love you’re capable of feeling. It’s not at anyone specific. It’s probably for luck. But Dakota wasn’t the type of guy who practiced customs.

It had to be platonic. But maybe it was romantic. If it was platonic, why hadn’t he ever said it before? But if it was romantic, why now? Right after making up from a fight and right before going to work? That was hardly the optimal time for that sort of thing.

Suddenly, a ringing sound pervaded the apartment. Cavendish was pretty sure it was the phone. He headed over to it and confirmed his suspicions. He knew what phones did, and he had seen people use them plenty of times. He just never used one himself. He picked it up and held it gingerly to his ear.

“Hello?” He asked. The phone continued to ring at him. “Hello? Is someone there?” He held it out and looked at it, getting the sense he was doing something wrong. This was different than the phones that Milo and his friends had, and he thought Dakota had called them cells. Hopefully that meant it was supposed to look different. There were lots of numbers, and he compulsively counted the buttons. Vampires had a thing for counting, which Dakota luckily hadn’t figured out yet. Two buttons stuck out, so he chose the one with the green drawing of a phone, because green was preferred over red by most humans. “Hello?” He repeated, still holding it almost at arm’s length.

“Balthazar?” The phone responded. He didn’t know who it was or how they knew his name. 

“Who’s asking?” He narrowed his eyes.

He heard laughter on the other end. “It’s me, Vinnie! Uh, Vinnie Dakota. Do I really sound that different over the phone? Everybody tells me that.”

“Everybody is right.” Cavendish was able to relax knowing it was only Dakota. But he became stressed again just as fast as he remembered what Dakota had said, leaving him in anguish for hours. “What do you want?”

“I thought I should let you know I’m gonna be late tonight. Im closing, and then picking up my new glasses. I won’t be home until after dark, so you don’t have to wait up for me.” He heard something crash in the background, but Dakota was unfazed. “Unless you don’t think you’ll be able to tell when the sun is down. Then you can totally wait.”

“I’ll be fine,” Cavendish said quickly, more pressing matters on his mind. “Dakota, before you left, you had said something peculiar, and I was hoping you’d shine some light on it.”

“Oh, I was hoping you didn’t hear me.” Although the voice didn’t sound like Dakota, it definitely sounded regretful. “I slipped up man, like, when you’re at the airport and the lady is all ‘have a nice flight!’ and you say ‘you too!’ and then you have to live with that. I’ve told at least eight cashiers I love them, at eight stores I can never return to ever again.”

So that was it, then. Just a silly mistake. Knowing Dakota, he should’ve figured it out on his own. It definitely took a weight off his chest. “Alright.”

There was silence on the line. “Okay…” he dragged out the syllables. “If that’s all, I’ve got to go...so...bye?”

“Goodbye.” Cavendish said, a little stiffly.

“I love you.” Dakota paused. “That was a joke, because earlier-“

“Oh! Yes, alright. Good one.” There was a clicking sound. “Dakota?” No response. He was pretty sure that meant the phone was off, so he put it back down. He was proud of himself for his first successful phone call.

Now that he no longer had to agonize over Dakota’s word choice, he could do whatever he liked as he waited. As he considered, he stepped on a discarded wrapper. He picked it up and tossed it into the garbage bin, and soon found himself tidying up the place. It also gave him an excuse to look around.

He had three piles; things to throw away, things to put away, and things he didn’t know if they were garbage or not. He put away the tank top Dakota had so carelessly thrown on the ground earlier. As he did that, he started looking through his clothes, mostly curious to see how many pairs of the same shirt he owned. He found a red hoodie in the far back and tried to pull it out, but it snagged on something. In a lapse of proper judgement, Cavendish tugged harder, and ripped an entire sleeve off of it.

He stared at his handiwork for a minute. He was in shock at his own stupidity. He didn’t know what to do, but maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal anyway. The hoodie looked like it had been too small for him, anyway. It was probably very old and Dakota had probably completely forgotten about it.

He slipped the one sleeved mistake on over his clothes, deciding it would be better to take the evidence away with him. He threw away the lone sleeve. He tried to straighten out his cape from underneath it. It was almost a nice take away, since it smelled like Dakota and it was warm like Dakota. And anyway, he was pretty sure Dakota had stolen one of his capes a while back for comedic purposes. This was just getting even. Even if it was an accident.

That was, decidedly, enough snooping around. He checked the clock, and figured the sun had to be down by then. He experimented by opening the curtains just a little. As no light poured in, he kept opening them until he could see outside. There was the moon, waning down to just a half. The moon cycles had always been strangely captivating to Cavendish. The moon had been his only company for years, after all.

That line of personifying was dangerously Dakota-like, so he scrapped it and made his way outside. It was nice to get some fresh air after being in the muskiness of that apartment for almost twenty four hours. There were still quite a few people bustling around and he didn’t want to make a scene, so he threw up the hood of the hoodie in an attempt to cover his face. He still got a lot of looks considering he was wearing a cape stuffed under a hoodie with only one sleeve.

He was so busy trying to avoid eye contact, he smacked right into someone. They both fell to the ground, and he was mildly surprised a person had enough strength to knock him down.

“Sorry about that,” a thickly accented tongue spoke with a bit of a laugh. The person stood, and offered his hand. “My head was in the clouds!”

Cavendish looked up at him, but quickly looked away. The man did not react to his eyes, so Cavendish took his hand and stood up. “Thank you,” he muttered.

He did not let go of his hand, but it was too friendly to be threatening. “Why haven’t we met yet?” There was wonder in his voice. “Are you new in town?”

“Hardly.” Cavendish couldn’t hide his confusion. He took in the man’s appearance. He was dressed like a goth, though he seemed too old for that kind of subculture. He had a very prominent widow’s peak, and dark hair that matched his eyes.

“I guess I simply don’t get out enough at night!” The man confessed, then shook his hand. “I’m Kyle Drako.”

“As in the teacher?” Cavendish asked before he could think.

Drako smiled. His teeth were sharp. But he didn’t smell like a vampire. He didn’t smell like a human either. “Yes! I take it you’ve met some of my students?”

“Yes, I have. Milo, Zack, and Melissa.” Knowing no one would ever know he said it, he added, “they’re very good kids.”

“Ah, I’ll have to agree with you there.” He let go of his hand, noticing the way Cavendish stared at him. “Sorry, am I keeping you?”

“No, just…” Cavendish cocked his head and asked rather rudely, “what _are_ you?”

Drako looked around, grimacing slightly when he saw people. “Do you mind if we go somewhere more private for this conversation?”

Cavendish was fairly certain he could take him in a fight, so he agreed. “Alright.”

They walked a few blocks before into the wooded area where Dakota had taken Cavendish for his birthday. They didn’t go nearly as far in, but it still brought back the memory. A nice memory. That was a pleasant sensation he wasn’t used to. 

“I wish Milo had told me he had met a vampire,” Drako started, confirming Cavendish’s suspicion that he knew exactly what he was, and making him wish the feeling was mutual. He racked his brains. Drako was too human and too vampire at the same time. It just didn’t make any sense. “It seems like the sort of news he’d want to share right away. I’m surprised he didn’t suspect you and I were in some kind of a coven.”

“That’s unimportant.” Cavendish had a feeling Milo did not tell because he was worried about Dakota’s safety. He wondered if Dakota was going to tell them about the werewolf attack. Probably not. He wouldn’t want to worry them. “I asked you a question.”

“And I’m going to give you an answer.” Drako responded, still light and playful. “But it _is_ a secret. I need you to promise me you won’t tell the kids.”

“Depends on the secret,” Cavendish furrowed his eyebrows. “If they are in danger, they will not be the only people I tell.”

“I was right, she’d love you.” Drako said cryptically, adding a hint of fondness to it. “I assure you no one is in any danger. Most humans just react poorly to learning about us, and I’d hate for word to get out to the more judgemental parents. I love my job and I love the kids, and I’d hate to lose that.”

“You’re not human then, of course,” Cavendish frowned, trying to piece it together. “But you’re not a vampire either. Clearly not werewolf.”

“And you’d know that.” Drako’s eyes were on his hoodie and a knowing smile quirked on his lips, and Cavendish suddenly realized he was not the only one who could smell Dakota on it. 

“It’s-it’s not like that,” Cavendish stuttered, obviously flustered and not very convincing.

“I am the last person who could judge you,” Drako put up his hands in defense. “And that’s why I knew you’d be the last person who could judge me. I’m a demi.”

Cavendish paused. “A what?”

“It means I’m half and half,” he explained simply. “One of my mothers was human, and the other was a vampire. As such, I am neither vampire nor human, and yet, I am both. Interspecies love is taboo, as I’m sure you know,” his eyes were on the hoodie again, “so that’s why you’ve never heard of it. It’s a bit of a struggle to balance, but I manage.”

“I see.” Cavendish never even considered that there could be such a thing. “That’s...I’m sorry, I’m a little speechless.”

“Understandably. I need to head back, I’ve got a quiz to grade, but here’s my number.” He took out a scrap of paper from his jacket, and scribbled down his digits. “If you have any questions or need support, feel free to hit me up.”

Cavendish accepted it, glancing it over before slipping it into his own pocket. “I will.” Cavendish said, and it wasn’t a lie.

“Are you going to tell on me?” Drako was, for the first time that night, uncertain. “I know Melissa and Zack and Milo would be excited to know, as would most of my other students, but I can’t risk it.” 

“Your secret is safe with me.” Cavendish tried to make it casual.

“But if you feel the need to tell your significant other, I won’t mind.” Drako added, smiling with such kindness Cavendish almost didn’t want to correct him. That, and because there was almost something exhilarating about being mistaken for Dakota’s boyfriend.

So he didn’t say anything. He just nodded and waved as they parted ways. He walked with a little spring to his step, surprised to find himself delighted by the knowledge that monsters out there were going against the grain and chasing their happiness. If they could do that, why couldn’t he?


	14. Sparks Fly

July rolled in with the shortest nights of the year. Dakota and Cavendish still found time for each other, but perhaps it was too much time. The space between them was quickly diminishing, both metaphorically and literally. It had gotten so bad they could finish each other’s sentences. The less infuriating Cavendish found Dakota, the more infuriated he became with himself. Dakota seemed either unaware or unaffected by the change.

“Hey Balthazar,” He called out as he entered. “The kids were hoping we could build a fire.”

“Why would they want to do that?” Cavendish frowned as Dakota joined him, knowing instinctively which room he’d be in. It was becoming routine.

“Because it’s summer. They wanna make smores and tell ghost stories and stuff. Milo isn’t allowed to do it any closer to town than this. It’ll be good for bonding.” Dakota was clearly in favor of it, even if his voice remained monotone. He readjusted his sunglasses, which he had successfully replaced with a pair that looked the same as the original. 

“That sounds like a horrible idea.” Fire and Murphy’s Law was bound to make an absolutely terrible combination. If Dakota fell in, he’d survive, but the others would not. Cavendish didn’t want to lose his fragile friends for the sake of summertime bonding.

“Oh, come on,” Dakota whined. “You’re no fun. Wait, that reminds me. When you were over at my apartment, did mess with my stuff at all?”

“The entire place was disgusting, I didn’t touch anything,” Cavendish lied quickly. Luckily, it was convincing. Or Dakota was just trusting.

“Alright.” He scratched the back of his head, trying to think. “Damn…”

“Why? Did you lose something?” Cavendish asked, mustering up as much innocence as he could.

“Yeah, my old sweater. It barely fit anymore but I was pretty sentimental about it and shit.” Dakota looked pretty bummed out about it. “I could’ve sworn I hadn’t moved it at all from the back of my dresser, but I couldn’t find it.”

Of course. He had reorganized the whole place, cleaning up all the garbage and putting things back where they belonged, but the most notable thing he did was the one thing he messed up. This is why he didn’t do nice things. He was bound to ruin _something_. He should probably just come clean. He certainly felt guilty. But maybe he could fix it, or find a new one, and replace it. Dakota wasn’t very observant of his surroundings, he might not even notice. “I’m sure you’ll find it,” Cavendish said dismissively, “So when are we setting things on fire?”

“We can do it?” Dakota instantly brightened up. “Awesome! We just  gotta wait for them to show up, Milo said they were getting a ride from his mom. Let’s go outside and wait for them.”

Dakota grabbed his arm and was dragging him out onto the lawn. “Slow down, Dakota,” he made a halfhearted attempt to pull away. “I don’t want to meet his mother. That’s going to be weird.”

Dakota did not relent. “Everything’s weird with you around. I wanna meet her!”

“You can meet her on your own.” Cavendish complained. But the minivan had already pulled up. Melissa and Zack hopped out of the back, thanking the driver. Milo kissed her cheek before climbing out of the passenger seat. Seeing the two standing on the lawn, she got out to greet them.

“Prepare yourself!” Melissa distracted Dakota by charging him and trying to tackle him to the ground. Dakota did not fall, he just spun around with her and set her back down.

“Stop attacking me, I’m trying to make a good impression with Milo’s mom!” He pleaded with her. 

“You have to prove yourself to her by trial of combat.” Melissa called over to her politely, “Mrs. Murphy, do you mind if Mr. Dakota proves himself to you by trial of combat?”

“Just go easy on him, Melissa.” Mrs. Murphy said. As Melissa began her attack, Mrs. Murphy turned her attention to Cavendish, sticking out her hand out. “Hi, I’m Milo’s mother. You’re Mr. Cavendish, I take it? Milo has told me so much about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

Milo must’ve told her about his and Dakota’s respective conditions, because she made no mention about their appearances. It was strange to be greeted like another human. Cavendish shook her hand. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“Ooh! So cold! And so polite.” She let go of him, clasping her hands together. “I’ll be back to pick them up at nine tomorrow, is that alright?”

“Just a moment,” Cavendish smiled at her before shooting a glare at Dakota. “Did you tell them they could stay the night?”

Dakota was trying to wrestle Melissa off of him. “Uh, yeah. It’s not like you have plans. I was gonna stay all night.”

“Hey Mel, if you bite him, do you think he’ll turn back into a human?” Milo piped up, watching the fight.

“I don’t think it works like that.” Zack shook his head. 

“I’m not gonna bite him, he’s super hairy,” Melissa tried to get him into a headlock. Dakota flipped her over his back, making sure he was gentle and that she landed on her feet. She spun back around to face him, her hair all in her face. She pushed it aside so she could look up at him. Her eyes shone with awe. “Do that again!” 

“In a minute! I wanna talk with the adults.” He smoothed out his shirt and ran over to Cavendish and Mrs. Murphy. He rested his elbow on Cavendish’s shoulder and lifted his hand in greeting. “Wassup.”

Cavendish made a face at him. “Dakota, I don’t own a bed. Where are they going to sleep?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Mrs. Murphy cut in. “They’ve all got sleeping bags. And backup sleeping bags, and backup backup sleeping bags. I’m also just a call away, so I can bring more sleeping bags.” She winked. “This isn’t my first sleepover.”

Dakota grinned at him. “See? They’ll be fine. Thanks, ma’am. We’ve got the little rascals from here.”

“I should be the one thanking you. But if you’ll excuse me, before coming here we were visiting Milo’s dad at the hospital, and we accidentally switched out his stuff with my purse so I’ve got to get back to him. It was very nice meeting you gentlemen.” Mrs. Murphy waved goodbye and made her way back to the car. A giant branch fell on the hood but she didn’t so much as blink.

“Mom, can we have that?” Milo asked as he ran over, as if she had grown attached to the branch in the few seconds between when it fell and when he noticed it. He was already grabbing it. 

“Of course dear, just be careful.” She ruffled his hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Call me if you need anything. Or you could call Sara, your dad, or the ER, depending on the emergency.”

“I will!” Milo promised and blew her a kiss as he dragged the branch back to his friends. “I love you!”

“Love you too. You kids be good!” She got back in the minivan, waving one last time before driving off.

“Fire! Fire! Fire!” The kids started chanting, following Milo into the backyard while he waved the branch around.

“Good socializing.” Dakota fistbumped him. “I think she liked us.”

“At least enough to leave her chaos child with us.” Cavendish agreed. “Let’s go make sure they don’t kill themselves.”

They headed to the back yard, where the kids were already gathering sticks. Dakota nodded to himself, “Okay, I’m gonna dig a little hole over here so we don’t catch the grass on fire.” He began kicking loose clumps of dirt.

“Hey Vinnie?” Melissa shouted from across the yard. She held up a stick. “Do you think you could catch this in your mouth?”

“Only one way to find out!” Dakota immediately dropped what he was doing. Cavendish rolled his eyes. He was such a child. But his attitude was contagious. People got caught up in doing silly things around him, but they’d be having fun. Everyone always had a good time around him. He could light up a whole room. Cavendish did not fight these thoughts.

Melissa handed the stick to Zack, suddenly unsure of her throwing abilities. Zack tossed it with the skill and dexterity that had earned him a place on the football team. And Dakota caught it, but when he bit down it splintered into a thousand pieces, most going in his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” he coughed, spitting out bits of wood. “My teeth were so much stronger than that stick.”

“You’re an idiot.” Cavendish told him, helpfully. An adorable idiot, yes, but he couldn’t say that.

“Hey, have you guys seen Milo?” Zack called over to them. “I can’t believe he missed that.”

Milo reappeared from the side of the house. “Sorry! I found a really good stick but I guess a woodchuck wanted it more than I did. I didn’t know they were still awake so late at night!”

“Milo, Vinnie caught a stick in his mouth and then exploded it,” Melissa filled him in gleefully. “It was awesome.”

Zack picked up another stick, poking it’s pointy end with a finger. He yelled, “Cavendish? If I stabbed you with this, would you die?” They all had a somewhat morbid sense of humor, but if you spend so much of your day in life threatening situations, it only made sense.

“You’re not strong enough to drive it through my chest,” Cavendish scoffed, weirdly prideful.

“That...that kind of feels like a challenge, but I’m not super comfortable taking it,” Zack admitted. He walked over, dropping the stick into the pile. Now at a distance from Milo and Melissa, he asked Cavendish, “Can we go inside for a second? I need...uh...water. Yeah, that’s it. I need water. I’m _so_ thirsty.”

“You don’t need my permission,” Cavendish pointed to the house, “you know how to get in.”

Zack glanced at the house, then back at him. “No, I need you to come with.”

“I don’t see why.” Cavendish’s eyebrows furrowed. “The sink is right in there, but if you wanted a bottle you’ll have to ask Dakota, he hides all sorts of food around the place.” 

Zack groaned, giving up and just telling him. “I need to talk to you in private.”

“Oh! Oh, alright. Let’s get you that _water_ then.” He winked and gave him a discreet thumbs up. It might not have been as discreet as he hoped, seeing as Zack cringed. 

Once inside, Zack sat down on the floor with his back against the wall. “Here, sit with me.” Zack motioned to the other side of the hall. Cavendish sat down so they were facing each other. “Okay, let’s talk about feelings.”

“Ew, no,” Cavendish tried to get back up, but Zack ushered him back into a sitting position.

“Just hear me out, please.” Zack did not ask for a lot from, well, anyone. The least Cavendish could do was listen to whatever he had to say. Cavendish remained seated. “Okay. So to start this off, let me just say Milo and Melissa are also rooting for you. They may not always present in the best way, but it’s the truth. They just don’t get it.”

“And you do?” Cavendish quirked an eyebrow, ready to brush him off. “Child, I have lived your lifetime dozens of times. A decade doesn’t even feel like a minute anymore.”

“Except when you’re with him, right?” Zack smiled softly.

Cavendish was taken aback. He was right. It hadn’t even been a year yet, but every moment he spent with Dakota felt like an eternity. A special little forever where it was just them and infinity. He used to not notice the passing of seasons. Now he kept track of the hours.

Zack shrugged. “I may not be crazy old like you, but man, love is love. It’s always been the same and it’s always going to be the same. The way you look at him isn’t anything new.”

Cavendish slumped forward until his forehead was on the floor. He began to groan, which slowly devolved into a frustrated wordless scream. He sat back up at breakneck speeds. “Fine! You’ve found me out! My horrible little secret is revealed! I’m in love and it’s _terrible!_ Are you happy now, Zack? Did you come here just to torment me?”

“No! That’s not it at all!” Zack said frantically. “I came to help!”

Cavendish paused his angry fit. “Why?”

“Because you’re my friend.” Zack said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “And one time I was in Vinnie’s shoes. I didn’t realize his feelings. I had no idea what I was putting him through, and I still feel guilty, because even though we’re friends again, my friend was suffering all that time and I...I never even knew. And I didn’t feel the way he did, but I did care about him so much, and that was the last thing I could’ve wanted for him. I’m sure Vinnie doesn’t want you to suffer, either.”

“I don’t want him to know.” Cavendish said suddenly, panic seizing him. “He said I was his friend, he said I was the best thing that happened to him since he turned. If he found out how I felt he would think I’ve just been taking advantage of him this whole time. He’d hate me.”

“He’s not going to hate you!” Zack promised. “I will do everything in my power to make sure you two don’t end up like me and Max did. And you won’t! I know you won’t. Because I’m going to help you tell him, so he doesn’t find out on his own when it’s too late. And one other thing.”

“What’s the other thing?” Cavendish asked after waiting a beat.

“Sorry, I was pausing for dramatic effect,” Zack conceded sheepishly. “Anyway, there’s one other thing. And it’s that your crush isn’t unrequited.”

“You don’t know that.” Cavendish tried to shut it down, but his heart betrayed him. The thought that Dakota was feeling all the things he was feeling was so impossible but so wonderful. He hadn’t allowed the thought before, because he wouldn’t have been able to handle that much foolish hope.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Zack smiled. He snapped out of his self induced daydreaming as he remembered something. “Oh, and I won’t tell Melissa and Milo what we’re up to if you don’t want them to interfere. I didn’t tell them beforehand because I thought that kind of stuff should be up to you.”

“No, I’m going to need all the help I can get.” Cavendish admitted miserably. “I haven’t done this sort of thing since I was human.”

“Wow.” Zack could not hide his horror. “Not even once?”

“I’ve been a little busy, seeing how I’m undead and all,” Cavendish snarked. “Dating is tough when you exist as a constant reminder of the futility and cruelness of life. My death was not a tragedy, it was a punchline.”

Zack nodded slowly, trying to process as little of that as he could. “That kind of talk is gonna be a little off putting, even to mr. perfect.” Zack reached out his leg and tapped Cavendish’s shoe with his shoe, a move that felt surprisingly supportive and comforting. “But we’ll figure it out. Milo and Melissa and I come up with some really great plans. We’ve survived all sorts of stuff with our quick thinking. Romance isn’t that much harder than dangling off a cliff.” 

They were interrupted by the door slamming open. Melissa, Milo, and Dakota ran in, laughing so hard they were wheezing. They were also drenched.

“I mean, I knew it was gonna go bad,” Dakota managed to gasp. “But I thought-!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Melissa wiped at her eyes. “Me too!”

“You just never know!” Milo was clutching to Dakota’s arm like it was the only thing that was keeping him upright. He looked up and saw Zack and Cavendish, who had quickly stood up and were prepared to pretend their talk had never happened. “You missed it, Zack-“ Milo pointed outside, but couldn’t get it out through his laughing. He buried his face in Dakota’s arm instead, as if the world itself was too funny to look at. “You smell like wet dog!”

This brought on a new wave of laughter. “You guys are nuts.” Zack shook his head, sending one more smile Cavendish’s way. Cavendish smiled back. “I take it no fire?”

More laughter. “Stop, you’re gonna kill us!” Dakota begged through his laughing, unable to take it anymore, falling to his knees and dragging the other two down with him. 

Melissa and Milo finally managed to collect themselves enough to push Dakota off of them, still smiling and chattering playfully. Dakota flopped onto his stomach and rolled over onto his back. His hair was strewn about wildly, and yet it managed to frame his face perfectly. He grinned up at Cavendish, still breathless from his giggle fit. “Hey, Balth.” His voice rasped, and there was no denying it.

Cavendish was in love.


	15. Some Place To Belong To

Dakota was being followed.

He knew that, but he pretended he didn't. He was in a store and it was still afternoon, so there were a lot of people around. He wasn't positive his follower would hesitate to do his work in front of people, and that was part of the reason he couldn't make a scene. He couldn't risk the lives around him over something like this.

His heart thumped harder at the thought. The chance of people dying because of him, because some sicko wouldn’t leave him alone. When did his life turn into that? That was a stupid question. He knew the exact minute his life became like this. But it was still ridiculous. 

“Hey!” His heart stopped at the voice. Of course Milo had to be there. He supposed it was just the kid’s rotten luck.

But he didn’t let his worry show. He kept his poker face. He waved nonchalantly, his cool composure not slipping for a second. “Yo, kid. I'm a little busy right now, got a lot of errands to take care of.”

“Oh, okay! I'll give you space.” Milo grinned at him. He was a good kid. Always respectful. “I'll see you later!”

“Yeah, see ya,” He passed by without so much as patting his shoulder. He didn't want his follower to see him treat Milo like they were close. He was friendly to him, he was friendly with everyone. But not close. That would be dangerous.

Though the presence of Milo caused a bunch of cans to fall on the guy, and Dakota couldn't stifle his snicker. That almost made his thirty five of aimless wandering worth it.

“Sorry, that was probably my bad!” Milo called to him, but before he could inspect him any closer, his mom called him from across the store and he had to run off. Dakota swallowed a sigh of relief. That was almost disastrous. God bless Mom Murphy for keeping her boy safe even when she didn’t know it.

“You gonna stop creeping around, Brick?” Dakota approached him, his amusement gone. He watched him get back up to his feet.

Brick flashed him a smile. “You're the one who's been leading me around for half of an hour. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you're enjoying yourself.”

“Do you want something?” Dakota did not want to play games. “I'm a little busy.”

“I just wanted to talk.” Brick moved like a predator. There was something in the way he carried himself that could've triggered a flight or fight response in anyone, but Dakota’s seemed to be broken. “You replaced those cute little shades of those. I’m so happy. It really crushed me when they broke in our scuffle.”

Dakota had to clench his fists to stop himself from trembling, digging his nails into his palms. “Thanks. Bye.”

“That’s not what I wanted to talk about,” Brick laughed, as if they were playing, “You tease!”

“Then spit it out.” Dakota started picking up the cans that had been knocked over. Any excuse to not have to look at him.  

“Just trying to be friendly. I do want to be your friend, Dakota,” Brick said, and he better resembled a scorpion than a wolf. “I've been thinking. Thinking about you. And somehow, I still can't see you as a killer.”

“Thanks,” Dakota said, giving him a disbelieving look. “Means a lot, coming from you.”

Brick’s lips quirked up into a vicious kind of grin. It felt more like he was baring his teeth. “So what I'm thinking is, you didn't actually kill that vampire. I just can’t see it.”

Dakota said nothing, returning the last can to its place, but his blood running cold. He couldn’t panic now, even if he wanted to. Oh, he really wanted to. This was bad. He didn’t think Brick would buy his lie in the first place, even though he had practically written the narrative himself, only asking Dakota for simple confirmation. Maybe he had known the whole time. But Dakota didn't actually know how much Brick knew, so he wasn't about to give him more.

“Not to mention that smell on you hasn’t gone away. It kinda seems like it's getting stronger. I’d give you the benefit of the doubt and say you haven’t gotten rid of the body yet, maybe keeping it as a trophy, but I’ve never known a vampire that didn’t turn to ash when their time had come. So if I can smell him, it follows that he’s still alive. And I can't imagine a positive reaction from the pack if they found out there was a vampire on the loose. Yes, I'd imagine we'd do away with the old bat before he even knew what hit him.” Brick circled around him as he spoke, trapping him both metaphorically and literally.

Dakota felt sick to his stomach. He couldn’t even fake a smile. But he tried to think clearly. He knew that if Brick wanted to go after Cavendish, he would. There was something he must be missing. It couldn’t be a weak spot, Brick wouldn’t need any shortcuts. Scratch that, he wouldn’t _want_ one. He loved the thrill of the hunt. Maybe it was Dakota who was missing something.

Brick continued his theatrics, “Now, that's hardly fair, don't you think? That’s what I think.” He didn’t sound very sincere. “If this was our territory, that'd be a different story, but technically we’re the ones trespassing. This dreary little town isn’t our homebase. We were just passing through, picking up some new friends. But the others aren’t as reasonable as me, you’ve seen them. If they think they’re in danger, they’ll bite back. It’s survival. I can’t deny them survival, you know?”

The situation finally dawned on Dakota. Brick was trying to say that if he came with the pack, then his vampire wouldn’t be attacked. He was clever, but Dakota could be clever too. He could tell Brick was unsure of his bargaining chip. Dakota was still new enough to the werewolf business where there might’ve been quite a few reasons he didn’t want to kill Cavendish. It was even possible he couldn’t, and had barely escaped with his life. The thought of fighting him still made him feel nauseous, but he didn’t let it show. He laughed, “Are you trying to blackmail me, Brick?” He met his eyes, standing his ground. “I'm not scared of you.”

Brick stopped moving. “I know.” Something about his expression changed. It was subtle, and Dakota didn't know what it meant, but he took note of it. “Nobody’s ever disrespected me like you have. It’s been a long time since anyone’s tried to attack me, but you’re the first to not run off with your tail between your legs after I shove back. You’re not scared of me. After everything, you can still say that to me and _mean it._ It’s irresistibly charming, if I'm honest.”

“You're kidding.” Dakota meant to ask it, but it didn't sound like a question. He already knew the answer, he just couldn't admit it to himself.

Brick brushed off his apparent disgust. “I know we got off to a rocky start, Dakota, but it only feels that way because you’re not used to it. You need to learn how to play rough. You can't stay a puppy forever.”

Dakota cut the tension for a moment. “Do you mean that like, physically or...?”

Brick stared at him. He definitely wasn't expecting that. His charisma dissolved for a second, “I meant mentally, Dakota, I meant you’re acting like a child. Why-why would I mean physically?”

“You're not ready for that conversation if you have to ask.” Dakota shrugged. “Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. Keep going with your creepy spiel.”

“Laugh it up, Dakota, I don’t mind. Playing hard to get doesn’t lose you any favors. But once you’re done joking around, you really should look at things realistically. Who else is gonna have you?” Brick sneered, “A _human_? You’re not one of them anymore. There’s no place for you with them.”

Dakota refused to give him the one thing he wanted, which was a reaction. “Can I go now?”

Brick stepped aside, holding up his hands in mock defense. “You can do whatever you want.” Brick licked his lips. “But don’t think word won’t get back to me.”

“Cool.” Dakota casually picked up an orange from a nearby stand and tossed it behind Brick.

“That’s not-it’s not gonna-“ He tried to fight the urge, but ended up running after it.

“Go buy some chapstick while you’re at it! You shouldn’t lick your lips that much!” Dakota called after him before heading off in his own direction. He was a little surprised that had worked, but he was glad he wasn’t the only one who did that.

It would be nice to have someone who understood what he was going through.

He shook off the thought. He didn’t want anything to do with these creeps. Even if Cavendish and the kids didn’t always understand what he did or why he did it, they were always there for him. And they did everything they could to help.  
As if on cue, his phone buzzed. He checked it, seeing a text from Milo. ‘Hey!’ It read. ‘How are the errands going? ^u^’ He sent back a ‘just finished’, to which Milo replied ‘omw!’ He didn’t know whether that was a typo or an acronym, but before he asked Milo came barreling around the corner towards him.

“I told Melissa and Zack I ran into you and they were all like perfect let’s get started and I was all like no he’s busy but they told me to keep messaging you until you were done because they’re all ready to get started,” Milo spoke a thousand words a second.

“Slow down, kid,” Dakota said, but he was smiling. “What are they getting ready for?” Instead of an answer, Milo responded by grabbing his hand and practically dragging him across the tiles. He brought him over to his mom, who was still checking out. Dakota waved with his free hand. “Uh, hi Mrs. Murphy.”

“Hi dear,” she smiled at him before turning her attention to Milo. “If you finish up before six, tell Melissa and Zack they can come over for dinner. It’s taco night.” It seemed like everyone was in on this plan except for Dakota. She looked back up at him. “And you’re welcome to join us, of course, just relay any dietary constrictions. I’m afraid I’m not a big fan of scary movies, so I don’t know much about...you know.” She pointed to his ears.

He was a little dumbstruck by her offer. He wondered if the whole Murphy family was this unbelievably kind, or if Milo just took after his mom. “Um, thanks ma’am.”

Milo gave his hand a little tug. “I’ll ask him on the way, we need to hurry!”

“Alright, see you boys later,” she waved to them.

They waved back as Milo sped up, pulling him out of the store. Dakota looked back, still feeling a little floaty after her offer. “I think I’m a little bit in love with your mom, dude.”

“Please never say those words to me ever again.”

Dakota snorted. “Alright, alright, I’m just kidding.” He let Milo led him into a different store, some kind of clothing boutique he had never been in before. He bought most of his clothes in bulk at thrift shops. Those were the comfiest and in his own mind, looked the best.

“There you two are!” Melissa cried as they made their way over. It looked like she and Zack were in the middle of an argument. They were both wearing silly hats they found, as per custom when you went shopping with friends. “I need your help. Zack’s being ridiculous.”

“She’s the one being ridiculous,” Zack adjusted his sunhat so it titled the other way, then crossed his arms over his chest. “Vinnie, you know him better than anyone. Do you think Cavendish would prefer something classy or something _funky_?” The distaste he said the latter with made it clear where he stood. Melissa shot him a glare. He shrugged, “your description, not mine.” 

“That’s a biased question!” Melissa interrupted. “We were helping him redefine his look because everything he wears is scary or old or both, and he said he liked _my_ skirt. My skirt is casual and fun. We’re trying to help him look less stuffy, not just stuffy in a new era!”

“Elegance isn’t stuffiness,” Zack argued. “He likes the concept of skirts, not yours in particular.”

“Show us the options!” Milo shouted to be heard, jittering with excitement. Despite having brought him to his location, Milo did not let go of Dakota’s hand. Dakota didn’t mind.

Zack revealed a mass of black fabric that was longer than he was. It was an evening dress with a neckline so low Dakota felt like he shouldn’t be looking at it even while it was empty. Melissa showed off something pink and orange that had no discernible shape or openings.

Milo motioned for Dakota to lean in. He whispered in his ear, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” and his breath tickled his fur. Dakota had to fight the urge to flick them. He was slowly learning how to control them.

“Depends.” Dakota whispered back. “What are we thinking?”

“We cut them in half and sew them into one super dress,” Milo got too excited, and was no longer whispering. Dakota straightened back up to save his hearing.

“Great idea, definitely,” Dakota offered him a smile, turning to the other two, “they’re both great! I think Balthazar would love them. It’s just...well…”

“What is it?” Zack and Melissa asked in tandem.

“His favorite color is green, so I was thinking he’d probably love something that’s green.” Dakota said, as if he were admitting some great secret.

Melissa and Zack hung back up their chosen outfits, reunited with a new goal. “Let’s go see what they’ve got in green!” Milo cheered, and Dakota watched them race off to a different clothing rack. His smile wouldn’t go away even if he wanted it to.

And Brick had been wrong about a lot of things, but his biggest mistake was thinking Dakota didn’t have a home right where he was.


	16. Hungry Hearts

Cavendish was nervous. He was generally nervous, but now even more so than usual. He knew he agreed to doing this, but it was starting to dawn on him just how bad of an idea it was. The thought of attempting to romance Dakota sent his head spinning. So many things could go wrong. And with Milo around, they probably will go wrong. He didn’t know why he was taking advice from middle schoolers in the first place. But knowing how immature Dakota was, maybe they would be his best resource even if he had other options.

“Okay,” Melissa clapped her hands together, “Milo is out with Vinnie right now. We told him to distract him for twenty minutes, but since it’s Milo, we should have a good hour to work with.”

“Realistically, an hour and half, but we don’t want to overestimate, just in case it’s a light day,” Zack added, setting down the bag he was carrying and digging through it.

“Why do we need time?” Cavendish scrunched up his nose.

Melissa and Zack exchanged a look. Melissa spoke bluntly, “because you look like a nightmare.”

“Oh! Thank you.”

“It’s...it’s not a good thing,” Zack shook his head. “That might be like, your thing, and I respect that, but it’s not ideal for dating. Vinnie is used to only seeing human people as possible romantic partners, so we gotta show him that you fit into that group too. Then you can go back to being creepy. For now, we’ve just gotta make you a little more...accessible.”

Melissa pushed a bag to his chest. “Go try this on! We’ll get ready for you out here.”

Cavendish took the bag and disappeared into his bedroom. He tried to make himself relax. They were all working hard to make sure things went well. He had to try too. Even if all he really wanted to do was flee to the arctic and live with the polar bears for a few decades. It was pretty up there, nice and quiet. The nights were long.

But he didn’t make a break for it. Instead, he stripped down, dumping the contents of the bag out on the floor. Inside was a dress, which he slipped on with ease. It was a solid forest green except for a nearly black ribbon around the middle that was tied in a bow at the hip. It went down to his knees, and he had to admit he liked the way it looked. The only issue was it was an off shoulder cut, which left his neck and shoulders totally vulnerable. For a vampire to show all that, well, it would send the wrong message. Even if Dakota didn’t notice, he’d still feel dirty.

So he put back on his cape over it. He went back to find Melissa and Zack. Melissa made a face. “Come on, cape off.”

He gripped it around himself protectively. “Absolutely not.”

They could see this issue was going to be non-negotiable, so they set it aside, momentarily. Zack pulled over a chair. “Okay, sit here.”

Cavendish sat down. “Aren’t we done?”

“Not even close.” Melissa reached into the bag that Zack was carrying earlier, pulling out a box. “You’re in luck, I have a full set of this stuff because my aunt got it for me as a birthday present. I’ve only used it once, when Lydia convinced me to go to school with purple lips to protest something or other.”

She clicked open the lock on the box, and revealed it was full of makeup. Zack pulled out a brush, covering it in powder. “I’m gonna try and make you look less like, uh…” he glanced to Melissa for support.

“A demon infested corpse?” She offered.

“A demon infested corpse,” he repeated with a nod. He started brushing the powder on Cavendish’s face. “I used to be in a band, so I still know how to do this pretty well.”

“So, we couldn’t find any contacts to fix your eyes,” Melissa started, watching Zack work his magic.

“Dakota likes my eyes.” Cavendish blurted out. Now he felt like he was the schoolchild, saying embarrassing stuff like that. 

“Well, that takes care of that,” Melissa sounded pleased. “Guess we won’t need plan c after all.”

“Good, I hated plan c,” Zack reached for a different brush.

“You’re really digging into that blush, huh?” Melissa observed teasingly.

“His face is so lifeless, it needs it.” Zack glanced at Cavendish. “Uh, sorry, dude. No offense.”

“None taken.” Cavendish didn’t realize being alive was such a beauty standard. He really hadn’t put any time into trying to make himself seem attractive, since it was quite difficult without a mirror and there wasn’t anyone he wanted to view him in that way.

“I’m gonna get the kitchen set up.” Melissa grabbed the bag she got the makeup out of.

“Okay, remember we agreed on just one candle.” Zack said over his shoulder to her. “Lowers the Murphy’s Law risks.”

“I know,” Melissa scoffed, but discreetly took two candles out of the bag. She walked to the other room with a skip in her step, excited to put all their planning into action.

Zack instructed Cavendish, “Close your eyes for a second.”

Cavendish obliged. He fidgeted with his hands as he waited. “Do you really think any of this is going to work? Fixing my face isn’t going to fix me. There’s still the chance he won’t be very smitten at all.”

“Hey, hey, woah,” concern laced Zack’s voice. “Nothing about you needs fixing, okay? You shouldn’t think stuff like that.”

Cavendish was surprised by the adverse response. He had barely even registered the words coming out of his mouth, it was just anxious muttering. “Sorry?”

Zack sighed. “You remind me too much of Milo sometimes.” Another surprise. Milo was so optimistic and likeable that the comparison didn’t really make sense to him. “He says the most concerning stuff like it’s nothing.”

“It just seems normal to him,” Cavendish guessed. “If you see that much disaster, you start to just accept it.”

“And if you sleep in a coffin, you start thinking you’re better off dead?” Zack asked, and Cavendish did not pick up on the fact that it was both rhetorical and sarcastic.

“Exactly! You understand.” Cavendish smiled, sounding proud of how fast of a learner he was.

“That’s...wow. Yeah, that’s gonna be a lot for you to unlearn.” Zack stepped back. “Okay, you can open your eyes.” Zack smiled a little at his handiwork. “You look good! I wish I had some way to show you.”

Cavendish lightly felt his cheek with his fingertips. He could feel the powder, but it wasn’t a terrible sensation. “I’ll take your word for it. Thank you, Zack.”

“No problem man. I’m gonna text Milo and see if they’re still alive, so you can go help out Melissa in the kitchen.” Zack was already taking out his phone.

Cavendish stared at the phone, lost in deep thought. “Do you think having one of those is useful?”

Zack glanced up. “Uh, you mean my phone? Yeah, it’s pretty great. You thinking about getting one?”

Cavendish paused. “No.” He was not as good at lying as he thought he was. He left to join Melissa before more questions came up. She had laid out a white tablecloth over the table. She had also placed a handful of flowers into a cup, which was fighting the single candle for centerpiece.

“Looks pretty romantic, right?” Melissa grinned at him.

It was strange seeing his table without the doughnut box on it. He almost asked her if she moved it, but he remembered he got rid of it when he was trying to distance himself from Dakota. “It’s lovely, Melissa, thank you.”

“I wonder when Milo’s getting back. We’re totally ready for them.” She pondered. She then screamed, making Cavendish jump nearly a foot in the air, “HEY ZACK HAVE YOU TEXTED MILO YET?”

“YEAH I DID,” Zack yelled back.

Melissa rolled her eyes, giving Cavendish a look she wrongfully assumed he’d understand “AND WHAT’D HE _SAY_?”

Zack paused for a second, presumably checking his phone. “HE’S ON HIS WAY.”

“GREAT!” She turned back to Cavendish. “Okay, you just sit here and we’ll let them in. It’s gonna be amazing.”

Cavendish took the seat at the table she made motioned to. She rushed out of the room, and Cavendish found himself waiting alone. He drummed his fingers on the table, doing his best to not picture how much of a mistake this whole night was going to be. But there wasn’t much else to think about. So he let it tear him up a little, sinking down in his seat until his forehead was pressed against the table. He was going to ruin their whole friendship and Dakota was going to hate him and never talk to him again by the end of the night.

“Yo, Balthazar!” He sat back up immediately as he heard Dakota. Melissa Zack and Milo followed him into the room, Milo waving a little hello to Cavendish. Dakota put down a takeout box on the table and gave him a smile. “Hey, that looks great on you! Give me a twirl.”

“ _I beg your pardon._ ” He narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t sure what that was slang for, but he was ready to get pissed about it.

“Uh, y’know,” Dakota spun around. “Like that?”

Cavendish couldn’t hide his embarrassment. “Oh. Right.” He said stiffly. He stood up and twirled before quickly returning to his seat.

Dakota clapped, sitting down across from him. “Yeah, that looks awesome! I’m glad it fit. I just had that one cape to go off of for sizes.”

“I knew you stole one!” Cavendish was more vindicated than actually upset. He stopped. “Wait, did you…?”

“Oh, yeah, I helped these knuckleheads pick it out. Thought you’d like the color.” He patted the box he brought with him. “Speaking of, you gonna eat this Milo? Thought you said you were starving.”

Milo realized that was his cue and straightened up. “I feel fine now!” Even his friends gave him a look for that excuse. “Maybe you and Mr. Cavendish should share it!”

Dakota spoke slowly, “That’s a nice offer, kid, but you know he doesn’t eat. Remember the jelly doughnut thing? He spat it out like it was on fire.” He twisted around to look at the other two. “Melissa? Zack? You guys hungry? We got...spaghetti. Why’d we get spaghetti, Milo?”

Zack and Melissa both politely turned down the offer of late night pasta. Milo was faltering. He shrugged, smiling nervously, “It seemed like a good idea at the time. I Sometimes you just crave those noodles. And then it passes.”

“Guess so.” Dakota went with it, turning in his chair so he was facing Cavendish again, who was screaming internally. He knew exactly why Milo was instructed to ask for spaghetti. They were trying to reenact the most romantic movie Melissa had ever seen: _Lady and the Tramp_. If Dakota were in on the plan, he’d be delighted by the dog references. “Not gonna let it go to waste, though. You got me in the mood for it now.”

Dakota started eating the spaghetti, blissfully unaware of the awkward silence in the room as four people watched him eat. He eventually caught Cavendish in the act, and when he didn’t look away, Dakota paused. “Did you...want some?”

“Swallow before you talk.” Cavendish frowned at him instinctively. Criticizing him was not exactly fostering that romantic atmosphere he was trying for. “And no. I don’t want some.”

The kids were all mouthing things behind Dakota’s back, clearly disproving of his choice. But he was remorseless. It wasn’t his fault human food had to taste like _that_.

“Hey, did you do something with your face?” Dakota did not speak through a mouthful of food this time. He motioned lazily with his fork. “Looks different.”

Cavendish sat up a little straighter. “Do you like it?”

Dakota hesitated. “Uh, yeah.” He shook off his uncertainty. “Sorry, no, I totally like it. It’s just…” he laughed. “I don’t know, I guess I’ve just gotten used to your weird pastiness. It brings out your eyes and stuff.”

Zack was rendered useless by that attack on his emotions, but Milo and Melissa were frantically trying to pantomime that now was the perfect time to go in for that spaghetti kiss. They all froze when Dakota turned around to look at them. “Hey, can you kiddos see alright? Need the light on? Or we could light this candle.” He gestured to the candle on the table. “Has that always been there?”

“We’re good!” Melissa forced a smile.

“Uh, I’m not,” Zack raised his hand. “I can barely see Milo and his heavy breathing is kinda freaking me out in the dark.”  
“I can’t see either. I’ll get the lights!” Milo hopped over to the light switch.

“Wait, Milo, no-!” Melissa tried, but it was too late. He flicked on the light, and the confetti contraption over the table that Melissa had set up went off, and a couple buckets worth of confetti fell on the monster pair. It knocked over the cup of flowers. She finished with a groan, “Not yet.”

Dakota was laughing very hard now. “What’s happening? What is all of this? Confetti spaghetti? Is that the joke? I still kinda wanna eat it.”

Cavendish was brushing the confetti off of himself. “Don’t eat it, it’s _paper_.”

“But it’s colorful.” Dakota pointed out, as if that would matter.

“So are marbles.” Cavendish said dryly.

“And they look delicious,” Dakota said with a tone that suggested they were agreeing. “But seriously, can someone explain this to me? What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Zack said abruptly. “It’s too quiet in here, is what’s going on! Milo, wouldn’t you agree?”

“That I would, Zachariah,” Milo fingergunned at him. He fished his phone out of his pocket. “Good thing we’ve got the miracle of technology!....and my phone is dead.”

“I’ll pull it up,” Melissa took out her phone. “Hang on, there’s an ad. I can’t skip it.”

“Refresh the page,” Zack said quietly, breaking character.

Melissa shook her head. “That’ll just change it to a different ad.”

As they waited for the music in silence, Dakota hacked up some confetti. Cavendish made a face. “Did you seriously put that spaghetti back in your mouth?”

“It didn’t taste as good as it looked but I was in too deep to stop,” Dakota admitted, almost shameful. Emphasis on _almost_.

“I got it!” Melissa cheered, tuning up her volume all the way. It was a seventies song, a slower Bruce Springsteen song that was sure to reel Dakota in.

Dakota’s tail started wagging. “Hey, I love this song!” The trap was set.

“Milo, will you…” Melissa started, but reconsidered. “Zack, will you hold this for me?”

“Of course,” Zack took her phone, so she could initiate the next step. She ran over to Cavendish.

“May I have this dance?” She asked sweetly, holding out her hand. Cavendish lightly grabbed her hand, and she jolted from the temperature but didn’t pull away. He stood, and they looked absolutely ridiculous together, just from a height standpoint. They took one step, and Melissa cried out, “Ah! I’ve sprained my ankle!” She clutched Cavendish’s waist, leaning against him dramatically. “I can’t go on. Vinnie, take over for me. But first, carry me over to the table, for I am wounded.”

Dakota stood up, actually falling for her terrible act. “Yeah, here, nice and slow,” he lifted her off of her feet. “Do you need an ice pack?”

“Milo’s got me covered,” Melissa said, and that was actually the truth. If anyone was injured, Milo would have them covered. “Just set me down over there and-” she grabbed his face, squishing his cheeks together “dance, you fool.”

Dakota sat her down on the table. She did not let go of his face for a few more seconds, slowly pulling her hands away. She maintained eye contact that whole time, attempting to telepathically will him into doing her bidding. “For me, Vinnie,” she said solemnly. “For my sacrifice.”

Dakota ran a hand through his hair, turning back to face Cavendish, “I guess that means it’s me and you now, dude.”

“You and me,” he corrected him, stepping closer. His brain started freezing up, and he forgot how to control his arms. So it was Dakota who grabbed his hand, and Dakota placing his hand on his hip. It was Dakota who led, and surprisingly, it was Dakota who didn’t trip over his feet. “You can dance.” Cavendish said, stupidly.

“Yeah, I learned how to slow dance in high school. Thought it’d impress girls.” Dakota narrowly avoided getting stomped on by Cavendish for the fifth time. “Kinda looks like you can’t, though.”

“I never learned.” Cavendish admitted, embarrassed but too entranced by Dakota’s movements to get flustered by it. He had the fuzziest memories of being at a dance. “No one wanted to dance with me anyway, I’m all knees and elbows.”

Dakota laughed. “Well, you’re doing just fine.” As they moved, Dakota was starting to feel the music, humming a little before he began singing along, “ _Don’t make a difference what nobody says, ain’t nobody like to be alone_ ,” he had a good singing voice. It was rumbly and deep like a river that Cavendish would be happy to drown himself in. Drown himself in Dakota. That sounded pretty good right about now. He started to lean in. “ _Everybody’s got a hungry heart,_ ” Dakota looked up at him through half lidded eyes, like he was caught in some kind of dream state. He didn’t look surprised, just intrigued. He rose up onto his toes. His breath was warm and steady. Cavendish wanted to steal it away.

The music came to a sudden stop. Dakota dropped back to the balls of his feet instantly, letting go of Cavendish’s hip so he could turn to look at Zack and Milo.

“Sorry, sorry, her phone crashed,” Milo apologized, but the damage was already done and he knew it.

“It’s cool,” Dakota assured him. “It’s getting pretty late anyway. You guys should hit the sack.”

“The sack isn’t the only thing I’m gonna hit,” Melissa grumbled, sliding off of the table and ushering Milo and Zack into the other room, most likely to complain that they had _one job_ and let her amazing acting go to waste.

Dakota was still holding his hand. He started to follow them, stopping when he realized he was still attached to something. He looked back at Cavendish, lips still parted. His expression was so full of longing it seemed like he was aching, but he didn’t say anything. Cavendish returned the favor, too dumbstruck to struggle with words. Dakota gave his hand a squeeze and let go.

Cavendish let him walk away.

 


	17. What’s Mine is Yours

Melissa was the first to wake up. She stepped over Milo and Zack in their sleeping bags, and discovered Dakota fell asleep with them at some point in the night, sprawled across the floor. As much as she wanted to wake him, she had more important issues to address.

She found Cavendish in the kitchen, picking apart one of the flowers she brought. She wondered if it was an absentminded action, or if he was doing a ‘loves me, loves me not’ sort of thing. “All things considered, I think it went alright.” She offered a smile.

Cavendish noticed her and set down the flower, or at least, what was left of the poor mangled thing. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” Melissa pushed her hair out of her face, only for it to spring back to where it was. “Don’t look so bummed out. Nobody falls in love in one night. We’ve got more plans. Come on, high five,” she held her hand out, getting a reluctant high five in return. “Do I have permission for a hell yeah?”

Cavendish gave her a quizzical look. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Uh, ‘cause you’re the only adult in the room,” Melissa rolled her eyes, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He considered this briefly. Although some of the kids’ antics were strange to him, they did always manage to cheer him up, or at least distract him from his looming despair. “Then I don’t give you permission for just a hell yeah, I give you permission for a fuck yeah.”

“Fuck yeah!” Melissa whisper-shouted victoriously. “Seriously, things will work out. You just gotta give it time.”

“I will.” He sighed, tapping his temple. “Sometimes I just wish I could get inside that head of his.”

Cavendish should’ve learned by then that any and all wishes were bad ideas.

That night only Dakota showed up. And he was acting almost normally, as if the night before hadn’t happened, but there was a weird distance he kept himself at. He smiled at him, but he wouldn’t touch him. It was like there was an invisible wall between them. Cavendish desperately wanted to tear it down, but had no idea how to even start.

On top of that, Dakota seemed restless. He was wandering around instead of hanging in just one spot like he usually did. He hadn’t explored the place like this since his second visit. He eventually stayed out when he found an old bookshelf and was entertaining himself by shuffling through its contents. Cavendish didn’t even remember he had half of the titles Dakota was calling out.

“And this one,” Dakota pulled out a book, flipping through the yellowing pages, “is about witchcraft? Are you a witch, too? A vampire witch?”

“No,” Cavendish slipped the book out of his hands, checking it over himself. “It’s just research material.”

“That’s a super boring answer,” Dakota complained. “I thought you could do like, magic or something.”

Cavendish shouldn’t disclose this kind of information, but his fear of being a disappointment outweighed that worry. “I _can_ do magic. Minor arcana. It comes with the vampire package.”

Dakota stared at him, mouth agape. Forgetting the invisible wall he had constructed, he grabbed Cavendish’s shoulders. “How could you wait this long to tell me. Please show me.”

“Of course,” Cavendish cleared his throat to try and hide the giddy pride he was feeling. Here was something impressive he could do that Dakota wouldn’t be able to laugh at. He glanced over a page in the book. It had been a while since he had done anything like this, so he was feeling a little rusty. As he started to cast, Dakota removed his hands to give him the space he might need, but the movement caused Cavendish to lose his focus and mess up rather horrendously.

Whatever he had done, it was _loud_. It sounded like everything was happening at once right on top of him and it wanted to crush him into dust. As he started to adjust to the sound, it felt like he could smell a lot better, and that there were as equal many smells as there were sounds.

“What the hell-“ he groaned, but it was not his voice. He stared at his hands. They were not his hands. Now that he was getting a handle on his increased hearing, he noticed a sound that should not be there under any circumstances: a pulse.

There was a man in his clothes standing across from him, grinning with sheer delight. “You kept your accent! Ooh, I kept mine too!”

“Is that really what I look like?” Cavendish asked, knowing it was a dumb question, but their situation was dumb enough where he was allowed a couple of those. They had switched bodies.

He was inside of Dakota, quite literally. His face went red with the thought. The lack of blood in his original body had protected him from looking as embarrassed as he felt on numerous occasions, but now he no longer had that luxury.

“I feel so powerful!” It was weird to see his own face, but it was weirder to see it smiling like a kid in a candy shop. “But also tired! And kind of icky! Is this what it’s like to be undead? I’m pretty sure I’ve physically died before, but this is like...different. Crunchy death.” He moved his arms and legs purposelessly, just delighted by the fact he had control over them. “This is a really cool trick, dude. If I knew you were a magician, I wouldn’t have teased you about how you dress so much.”

“It wasn’t what I was trying to do,” he growled in frustration, which was so much more satisfying with Dakota’s deeper voice. “And I’m not a magician.”

“Does that mean you wanna switch back-ow, I bit my lip. Your lip? Someone’s lip.” Dakota held out the book for him to take.

“It’s not in there,” Cavendish waved him off. He had messed up, which in turn created a new spell. He thought that would be straightforward.

“You sure? There’s a lot of pages,” Dakota tried to look through it but ripped the book in half. His eyes widened. “Dude, why are you so strong?”

“I’m a vampire.” He condescendingly reminded him, then was hit with a wave of dreadful realization. “Actually, I’m a werewolf. You’re the vampire. You have the magic right now.”

Dakota was brushing his new mustache with his fingers. “You definitely said that like it was a bad thing.” That was an invitation for Cavendish to explain exactly what the issue was. 

“It is.” He pulled on the collar of his tank top. Now he was sweaty. When you were alive, your body was constantly doing way too much. “You’re going to have to figure out how to change us back.”

Dakota laughed. “Aw, you have such a nice laugh, you have to show it off more.” He said, briefly distracted. “Anyway, my mom tried to teach me to do magic tricks when I was seven and I ended up losing like, nine dollars worth of quarters and three sets of cards. That wasn’t magical, I just had trouble keeping track of stuff. She would tell me I’m very good at making things disappear, but I needed to figure out how to bring them back. So I’m not going to be much help.”

“You have to try.” Cavendish folded his arms over his chest. “It’s easy. Easier than this breathing thing, which is very annoying, I should like to add.”

Dakota set the book halves on the bookcase. “I’ll try, I’ll try, just don’t get your hopes up.” He cracked his knuckles. It made a horrible sound that no body part should make, like hay being snapped in half. “Jesus Christ. Just gonna ignore that. Okay, what do I do?”

Cavendish opened his mouth. Then he closed it again. “It’s...it’s sort of like…” he racked his brain. “It’s hard to explain, you just...do it.”

“Wow, that clears that up.” His sarcasm was interrupted by his discomfort, “Can I take off your cape? I feel like it’s strangling me.”

“Would you like it if I took off your shorts?” Cavendish sputtered, turning red once again. This surplus of blood was a curse.

Dakota thought for a moment and shrugged. “I don’t think I’d mind.” He was totally unbelievable. As always. He cracked a smile at Cavendish’s red face, but then his eyes wandered down. “Dude, do you have a bon-“

Cavendish was not in the mood for this. “Just fix this!”

“Okay!” Dakota held up his hands in defense. “Are there magic words or something? Can you give me literally _anything_ to work with?”

Cavendish shrugged, at least having the decency to look guilty about his lack of helpfulness. “It’s like...like a muscle memory. Could you explain how to walk? It’s like that.”

“Uh, yeah, you put one foot in front of the other.” Dakota tried to demonstrate by walking in a circle, but hit his head where the ceiling was lower. He complained, “You’re too tall.”

“I can’t do anything about that,” Cavendish’s mind was still focused on trying to figure out how to explain this. “Just...try to picture how you feel before you transform on full moons. That’s magic, just you’re not in control of it and you black out before it really gets started. So it’s a little different. But it’s somewhere to start, right?”

“That’s all I asked for, a jumpin’ off place.” Dakota tried to think back to his last full moon. And it worked, just not in the way they were hoping for. He turned into a bat, and fell unceremoniously onto the floor with a little thump. He groaned, “Why wasn’t flying intuitive?”

“At least this proves that you’re capable of figuring it out,” Seeing his bat form was less interesting than seeing how he normally looked. “Okay, so now just picture when you turn back after the full moon.”

“I’m not conscious for that part.” Dakota pointed out.

Cavendish crouched down, poking Dakota experimentally in his tummy. “Oh. Right. Then...just picture your transformation in reverse?”

“Balthazar, I swear to god.”

“Sorry. We should get outside help.” Cavendish finally gave in. This clearly wasn’t going to go anywhere. “I suppose Drako might be able to do it, and even if he can’t, he’s an instructor, so he’d at least be able to explain it more eloquently than I.”

Dakota continued to lay there in adorable defeat. “Wait, you mean that teacher the kids think is a vampire?”

“I’ve made his acquaintance, he’s not a vampire, at least, not a full one, he’s half human.” He clasped his hands over his mouth. He really needed to learn how to keep it shut. “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. Please don’t tell anyone. Even Milo.”

“I was just gonna say Zack told me he was on vacation, visiting his family in Transylvania, which he thought was more proof.” He paused. “So like, he can’t help us. He’s in Transylvania. I was gonna tell you that.”

“I got it.” Cavendish’s hands migrated from his mouth to cover his whole face. “I just told you his secret for literally no reason.”

Dakota laughed at him, which was an odd but cute squeaking. “Nice going, dude. How about we go see Savannah? Her grandmother used to do witch stuff and in college she dabbled in dark magic. Tried to summon demons and stuff. I think I made out with a ghost because of her, but I was wasted when it happened, so it might’ve just been that pale kid from across campus.”

“It’s not like we’ll have better luck here.” Cavendish conceded, although he was a little afraid to meet Dakota’s friend face to face. Their only interaction had been her yelling threats at him through a door. He awkwardly scooped Dakota off the floor, who was still refusing to move on his own. He grabbed a few books he thought could help and held them under his other arm.

Dakota gave him directions, and they eventually managed to get to her house. He had sent him around a couple of wrong turns, but the streets looked different when it’s night and you’re less than ten times your usual size, so Cavendish let it slide with minor complaining. When they finally got there, Cavendish knocked on the door.

Savannah opened the door a little, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Vinnie…? What are you doing here?”

He forced a smile. “Uh, hello, Savannah. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

She stared at him for a moment, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She spoke slowly, “Listen, Vinnie, I love you, and you’re my best friend. But if you ever, and I mean _ever_ , show up to my home again at three am doing a terrible British accent, I will melt down all of my silver jewelry and make you drink it.”

“His accent isn’t that bad,” Dakota piped up. “Also, that’s not me. You know that vampire I’ve been telling you about? We accidentally switched bodies.”

“This might as well be happening,” She sighed, opening the door all the way. “Get in here.”

Cavendish brought them in, finding himself oddly pleased with the notion that he could’ve entered even if she didn’t invite them in. “We don’t mean to intrude, but Dakota said you’ve had some practice with-“

“Hang on just a second,” she interrupted Cavendish, and plucked Dakota out of his hand by a wing. She held him in front of her face, giving him a disapproving look. “Is this just what you do now? Turn into little fluffy things then get in trouble with your on again off again boyfriend?”

“Sav, he’s not my boyfriend!” Even as a squeak, his ‘oh my god stop embarrassing me in front of my crush’ tone was obvious, but Cavendish was too distracted by his own embarrassment to notice.

“And you don’t even let me meet the guy until you need something! You think I don’t want to meet the person you’re losing sleep over? I still want to be a part of your life, even the weird bits.” Savannah continued to chew him out.

“Balthazar, could you give her a hug for me?” Dakota asked him. “Even if I knew how to use these,” He flapped his free wing pitifully, “she’s got the grip of a kung fu master.” Not having many other options, Cavendish put down his stack of books and walked over, awkwardly wrapping his arms around her. Savannah did not hug back, but she didn’t try to push him off. Dakota was content, “Aw, you guys are so cute. Okay, let her go, I’ll do introductions.”

Cavendish took a couple steps back, grabbing the books again so his hands wouldn’t be empty. Dakota motioned to him as best he could while he was dangling there, “Savannah, this is Balthazar Cavendish. He doesn’t usually look like my reflection. He’s a grumpy old man and he drinks blood, but he’s secretly a softie. He’s the one I’ve been hanging out with at night. He’s my favorite vampire.”

Cavendish was blushing again, but he tried to pretend he wasn’t. “It’s nice to meet you. Dakota has told me quite a bit about you too.”

“Let me do this officially,” Dakota stopped him, “Balthazar, this is Savannah. I know it’s crazy, but I do have a friend my own age, and she’s basically the best human to ever grace the earth. She’s got her whole life figured out except for me, which I guess is just part of my charm. Now you know each other.”

“Works for me.” She glanced at Cavendish. “Do you want him, or should I just put him down somewhere? If he gets too annoying, I’ve got plenty of mason jars we could put him in.”

“You’re so mean!” Dakota protested.

“Uh, I’ll take him,” Cavendish held out a hand, and Savannah handed him over. “So Dakota told me you have some experience with magic, and we were hoping you’d be able to reverse this. I brought with us some books that might be able to help.”

“It’s been a while,” Savannah admitted, grabbing a hair tie and putting her hair up in a ponytail so it wouldn’t be in her face. “But learning how to undo a curse was probably the most important thing I figured out, so I haven’t forgotten it yet. Just hold your breath for a second, Balthazar.”

He did as instructed, and everything was quiet again. He was back in his original body, and if Dakota’s “thank fuck!” was anything to go off of, he was back too. It felt good to be back where he belonged. Cavendish fluttered out of his hand and transformed back. Savannah sized him up, nodding to herself.

“Hey, if you can undo curses, why can’t you get rid of my werewolf thing?” Dakota only now realized this discrepancy. He set down the books on her coffee table.

“Different kind of curse.” Savannah and Cavendish said at the same time. Savannah flashed him a smile before continuing, “The only thing they have in common is that they’re designed to harm the target in some way, which is what gets them the label of curse. It’s an umbrella term. I can reverse simple stuff, like spoken word incantations but that’s it. The werewolf curse is super fucking old. I’m pretty sure the only way to get rid of it would be to kill the alpha, right?” She glanced to Cavendish for confirmation.

“I suppose so,” he offered, “I’ve never seen anything about it before, but that makes sense.”

Savannah yawned. “Alright, it was nice meeting you, but you better get back to your place before the sun comes up to terrorize you. Don’t be a stranger, okay? As Vinnie’s friend, you are my friend by association. And I’m never too busy for a friend. Plus, I’ve got embarrassing stories about him I’d love to share.” She patted Cavendish on the back.

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again,” he smiled lightly. Dakota was already heading out the door, so Cavendish gathered up his books and followed. “She was very nice. I’m glad you have a friend like that. Someone who knows you and can help you back on your feet when you fall. It’s nice.”

Dakota did not look back at him. “Hey Balthazar?”

He perked up. “Yes?”

“She was right. You oughta head back before the sun’s up. I gotta get home.”

Cavendish was a little surprised Dakota wasn’t going to at least walk him back first. Even when he had a schedule, he wasn’t the type who worried over it. Fifteen extra minutes to say goodbye to Cavendish was something he could always spare. But Cavendish didn’t want to push it. If Dakota still needed a little space, he would give him that. “Alright then, see you soon. I hope my body didn’t treat you too terribly.” He didn’t even get a chuckle for that. Their paths diverged, and suddenly Dakota was walking away. Cavendish called out to him, “Stay safe.”

He didn’t hear his answer.


	18. A First For Everything

The kids had planned another date night the next day, but Dakota did not answer his phone. It was probably for the best, since a swarm of late night seagulls stole away all their preparations, the likes of which none of them had ever seen (except for Milo, who claimed this was the seventh time this sort of thing happened to him). Milo let Cavendish know Dakota had texted them all back, apologizing and saying he had just been feeling sick that night and went to bed early.

Cavendish did not tell Milo werewolves didn’t get sick.

He wondered if he had messed up somehow. He was giving Dakota the space he seemed to require, but maybe he was misinterpreting his actions. Maybe he was the kind of person who took a step back and he wanted the other person to step forward. And here Cavendish was, stepping in all the wrong places just like when they were dancing. If Dakota could forgive him for that, hopefully he could forgive him for this too.

It was a few more days before Dakota showed up again. Despite not spending his nights up with him, he looked tired. “Sorry it’s been a while,” Dakota gave him a weary smile, not bothering to make up any excuses. He laid down on the couch, reaching underneath it to grab the worn out tennis ball Milo had gifted them with. He bounced it against the floor. It would hit the wall and come right back to his hand. He continued doing it as he spoke, “so how have things been?”

“Normal.” Cavendish said. But things hadn’t been normal. Nothing felt normal when Dakota wasn’t around. He chewed at his lip. He had to say something. “You’ve been acting worrisome, though.”

“Yeah, sorry, I’ve just been thinking.” He kept his eyes on the ball. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” Cavendish stood behind him, still giving him a good foot or two of space. 

“You ever kill somebody, Balthazar?”

“I didn’t,” the words came out of his mouth involuntarily. It was like a buried defense mechanism that was activated again by his question. Cavendish didn’t understand why he had said it like that, so he corrected himself, “I haven’t.”

The only sound in the room was the thump of the ball. The floor, the wall, his hand. The floor, the wall, his hand. “You ever wanted to?”

“Where is this coming from, Dakota?” He could no longer hide his concern. “This isn’t like you.” He continued hesitantly, wishing he didn’t sound quite as pitiful as he felt, “Did I do something wrong?”

He caught the ball and did not throw it again. He twisted around to look at him. He cringed with guilt as he saw his face. “Oh, Balth, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset. God, no, that’s not what I wanted.” He ran his free hand through his hair, trying to figure out how he could explain this. “It’s just-remember what Savannah had said about making me human again?”

Cavendish thought back. His eyes widened, and he spoke frantically, not wanting to risk even another second of Dakota deciding to make this terrible mistake, “We don’t know if that would even work. You don’t want to be human enough to kill someone, even if that someone is as bad as that guy, right?”

“I’m not considering it!” Dakota rested his fears. “I couldn’t do that of that kind of shit, man, that’s heavy. It’s just making me think. He’s hurting people. He’s killing people. He’s turning people into killers. And if they wanna stop? They gotta kill him. It’s just...it’s heavy.” Dakota looked away, and made a strange sound Cavendish did not recognize.

“Are you alright?” Cavendish allowed himself to get a little closer.

Dakota noticed him shifting around and sat up, making room for him. Cavendish accepted his nonverbal invitation and sat next to him. Dakota started gnawing on the tennis ball, which he supposed was a comfort thing, but it was still kind of gross. “It scares me a lot. I hate thinking about it, so I don’t, but when she said that...I gotta face reality. I’m part of that violent circle whether I like it or not. I can’t keep pretending that I’m the same as humans.”

So Dakota had not been asking him about his experience with murder because he wanted to know if he’d be capable of it, but because he was only now letting himself see Cavendish as a monster. He had never asked him if he’s ever killed a victim before, or if a werewolf fight ever went that far, and Cavendish had chalked it up to his usual disinterest in most things, especially nonhuman things. But it wasn’t that. It was because he didn’t want to know the answer.

“You’re not like the others, Dakota. You have so little bloodlust in you that you don’t even turn into a wolf.” Cavendish knew he should do something comforting. He wanted to do something comforting. But he didn’t want to take advantage of Dakota while he was so emotional. The closest thing to this vulnerability that Cavendish had seen in him was when it was thunder storming, and even that wasn’t close to this. Deciding he had to do _something_ , he gently placed his hand over Dakota’s. “There’s a lot of hurting in the world, but that’s not your burden to bear.”

Dakota pulled his hand away, and Cavendish returned the favor, not surprised but just hoping Dakota wouldn’t hate him too much for it. Dakota did surprise him by practically vaulting onto him, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. He made that weird sound again and Cavendish realized he was sniffling. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled into his chest. “This isn’t your problem.”

Cavendish tried to hug him back, which was hard enough with his awkwardness, but it was particularly challenging since Dakota was gripping him so his arms were being pressed to his sides. He patted his back. “Of all your jokes, that’s your least funny one. I tell you my grievances all the time, and they’re generally petty at best. You’re allowed to feel, and you’re allowed to talk about it. I don’t want to just stand by while you torture yourself quietly.”

Dakota’s claws were digging into his back, but he didn’t squirm. He could sit still and deal with it for a little bit. That wasn’t a lot to ask for. Dakota’s breath hitched, “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“You won’t.” Cavendish could assure him of this sincerely. Even if he needed to, Dakota wouldn’t hurt anyone. It was just who he was. Cavendish looked down at him, the mess of hair and fur pressed against him like he was his lifeline. In that moment, Cavendish knew that even if Dakota couldn’t, he could. “Do you want to be human again?”

Dakota, done acting like a mess, sat up, slowly pulling away from Cavendish in a way that was so strangely tender it didn’t feel like they were being separated. He wiped at his eyes with his wrists, still clutching the tennis ball in one hand. Aside from the afterglow that follows crying, Dakota looked back to normal. “Not overly. I only asked Savannah because I thought if it would be that easy, she should’ve at least offered.”

“I see.” Cavendish was not convinced, and that came through in his voice.

Dakota laughed. “I’m serious! It hasn’t affected me that much. All the big stuff hasn’t been related to my new self, I’ve just been seeing a different side of the world. And even that hasn’t been all bad.” Dakota met his eyes as he said that, then looked away with another chuckle. “Dating’s a different story. Even people who like this much hair aren’t gonna be fans of how I turn into a puffball every once in awhile.”

“I think it’s cute.” Cavendish offered, too busy looking at him to realize what he had said. Dakota was visibly caught off guard by it, but he regained his cool just as quickly.

“Well thanks, Balthazar, that’s sweet.” For once, he sounded genuine. He cupped his cheek with his free hand. “You know what? I think, underneath your grumpy persona, you’re the sweetest guy I’ve ever met.”

“I-I think you’re…” Cavendish tried to counter, but he was at a loss for words. 

Dakota let the ball fall to the floor. It bounced once, twice, three times, four times, five times before it rolled away. Dakota got on his knees, now eye level with Cavendish. That meant their lips were at the same level. Cavendish didn’t think there was a term for that, which was ridiculous, seeing as it was so much more important than being at eye level. In fact, at that moment, the position of Dakota’s lips in relation to his own was the most important thing in the world to him.

“What do you think I am?” Dakota whispered, a wry smile finding its way onto his features. Now both his hands were on Cavendish’s face.

Cavendish swallowed. “Kissable?”

He couldn’t see it, but he could hear the air swishing from Dakota’s tail wagging, which meant he could only imagine the top speeds it was reaching. “That works for me.”

Cavendish leaned in, closing the little gap there was between them. Just as their lips were about to touch, Dakota leaped back a good foot, as if he had been electrocuted. He covered his mouth with his hands, and Cavendish was equal parts confused and concerned, with a little disappointment mixed in.

“I had pizza like, two hours ago,” Dakota explained, wide eyed. “There was garlic on that. I’m gonna go rinse out my mouth.” He leaped off the couch, his socks making him slip on the floor and fall flat on his face. Before Cavendish could ask if he was alright, he got back up on his feet with a little less vigor and continued his journey to the bathroom, leaving Cavendish to deal with that.

They had almost kissed. They hadn’t even been a full second away from kissing. Dakota wanted to do that. When Dakota came back, he might want to finish doing that. That thought was enough to short circuit his brain.

“Okay!” He was snapped out of it by Dakota’s shouting. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, staring into space like an idiot. Dakota wiped his mouth with his forearm. “Okay, we should be good now.” His face was flushed. “Do you, uh, do you wanna pick up where we left off?”

Cavendish stood up to join him. “I would like that very much.” But a sudden thought struck him, and he sat back down. “Actually, I don’t think we should.”

Dakota blinked and sat down next to him. “And why not?”

He folded his hands in his lap and stared down at them so he wouldn’t have to look at Dakota. “You’ve been emotionally unbalanced for a couple days now and you finally got to let some of that negativity out, so you’re still riding that rush right now. You probably feel like you can do anything, and I’d hate for that anything to be something you’re going to regret.” Cavendish’s anxiety refused to just let him have this, so he continued, “On top of that, I’m bound to be a terrible kisser. It’s been literal lifetimes since I’ve done it last.”

“Then let me remind you how,” Dakota gave him a dorky grin. He peeled one of Cavendish’s hands away from his lap, squeezing it in his own. “I appreciate the worry, but I’m not gonna regret this. Actually, since day one I’ve-” He went rigid, head whipping towards the door. “There’s someone-“

“I’ve got it,” Cavendish was torn between desperately wanting an escape and never wanting to leave the couch, so he took off before he could reconsider. He opened the door to find Milo.

“Hey! I hope this isn’t a bad time, but Melissa lost her bracelet and wanted me to look here.” His clothes were dirty enough where Cavendish was fairly certain this was not the first place he checked.

“This bracelet?” Dakota had snuck up behind Cavendish, jangling the little piece of jewelry. “I don’t know how she coulda dropped it.”

Milo took it from him, slipping it into his shorts’ pocket. “Thank you! You’re looking well, are you feeling better? My dad said to recommend extra sleep and soup.”

Dakota laughed, charmed by his concern. Cavendish was trying to avoid looking at him, for he still wanted nothing more than to kiss him and seeing his face would just make it worse. He told Milo, “Thanks kid, I’m alright. Feelin’ a lot better.” 

“That’s good.” Milo looked up at the night sky, as if it could tell him what time it was. Knowing his collection of odd skills, it probably could. “I’ll see you guys later. I can’t stay tonight, I’ve got to get up early tomorrow!”

Dakota glanced out at the street behind him. “Are you here alone? Not even with your bike?” He shook his head when Milo said yes. “Okay, let me walk you home. It’s too late for you to be walking by yourself.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be fine.” Milo tried to assure him. He never wanted to trouble anyone, even at his own expense.

But Dakota knew his weak spots. “If you let me walk you home, I’ll try to talk to your dog.”

Milo lit up at the concept. “Okay!” Even this late at night, he still had so much energy, nearly skipping away from the door. Dakota followed after him, and Cavendish was left just watching them go.

After considering for a second, Dakota came running back to him. He grabbed a fistful of Cavendish’s cape, yanking him down and accidentally smashing their noses together. Not allowing himself enough time to even recover from that, Dakota tried again and managed lip to lip contact that time. He was being partially strangled, his nose hurt, and Dakota was getting spit on his mustache. It was _perfect_.

Dakota pulled away almost as quickly, cheeks dusted with pink. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow...champ.” He slugged him in the arm, and then ran after Milo, who hadn’t noticed he wasn’t still being followed.

Cavendish felt like he was floating, and nearly tripped over something by the door. He realized it was, bizarrely, Dakota’s shoes. He glanced back at him and Milo to see he was still just in socks, too dazed to even realize it. He picked them up, but didn’t know what he’d even say if he caught up with them. Instead, he just threw them at Dakota from the door. The first shoe missed but the second got him square in the back of the head. He had thrown it a little harder than he meant to. Dakota was once again face down on the ground.

Milo looked around, mildly perturbed, mostly just curious to see where the shoe came from. He waved enthusiastically at Cavendish when he spotted him watching from the house. “HE’S ALIVE!” Milo yelled to him, giving him a thumbs up.

Cavendish returned the thumbs up. He retreated back into the manor, decidedly having interacted enough with Dakota for one evening. Once he had closed the door he let himself sink to the floor with unadulterated glee. He couldn’t contain the butterflies it filled him with. It was like that kiss had brought him back to life. And most surprising of all, it felt nice to be back. 


	19. Just Be Honest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a scene with injury in this chapter, just a heads up!

It was August now. The kids were trying to squeeze in as much last minute summer fun as they could, and didn’t have much time to spend with them. Milo had told Zack and Melissa about the kiss, and they were happy for him, although Zack was a little bitter over the fact that their romantic plans had gone to waste. Melissa reminded him that one kiss wasn’t endgame, and there would be more dates to organize.

Meanwhile, Cavendish had thought the next time he’d see Dakota, it would be awkward. He expected the kiss to have changed his life as much as it had changed his own. He thought there’d be skipping heartbeats and quick glances and all of those things he tried to forget when he tried to give up on love.

But Dakota was the same.

He wasn’t pretending it didn’t happen, he just didn’t seem to care. For some reason, that made Cavendish’s chest hurt. And while it was true that the kiss had been short but precious (much like the initiator), it was still their first kiss. That should mean something. He just wanted it to mean something to him. _He_ wanted to mean something to him.

And it made him feel silly to be getting so worked up over something Dakota wouldn’t bat an eye at. He was feeling foolish, and that made him act defensively. He was sharper tongued and more critical of everything. It was the only way he could protect himself from looking stupid.

So each time he would see Dakota, he’d experience this full range of emotions, from elation to disappointment to self hatred to cockiness. It was draining. And Dakota still didn’t care. He was as disinterested as ever. The fear that Cavendish was only a distraction for him was beginning to gnaw at him. It was hard for him to put his feelings on the line like this, and he didn’t want to get them crushed in what was only a game to his partner.

As if that wasn’t enough plaguing his mind, he also couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation he and Dakota had before their kiss. If Cavendish had the chance to become human again, and all he had to do was kill someone for it, would he? He had convinced himself humanity wasn’t worth even thinking of, but that was because he was dead. Even if he had a way to undo his curse, he couldn’t actually go back. His days in the sun were long gone. But Dakota still had a chance.

And it wasn’t like there’d be much of a moral dilemma over his victim. It wasn’t like Brick was undeserving of a little murder. Cavendish’s mind would bring him back to Dakota at the playground, a bloody heap of torn fabric and lifeless eyes. When he’d think about it, his fangs would ache, like some primal rage was trying to boil over inside of him. He wasn’t there for Dakota then, but now he could be. He could get it right this time.

Dakota was lying on his stomach in his kitchen, making his way through a bag of doritos. Cavendish grimaced at him. “I’m under the impression it’s labeled ‘family sized’ for a reason.”

“I live alone, I’m my own family,” Dakota shrugged him off.

Cavendish poked at his side with his foot. “If you insist on making a mess, can you at least go sit in a chair like a regular person?”

Dakota grunted but did not move. “It’s hot. The tiles are cool.” Realizing he was out of chips, he licked the dust off his fingers.

“That’s disgusting,” Cavendish huffed. “Are you really incapable of being anything other than a slob?”

Dakota glanced up at him. “Dude, can you quit riding my dick for like, five seconds? You’ve been giving me such a hard time for everything lately.”

Cavendish didn’t realize it had been noticeable and was taken aback. He jumped on the defense, starting accusatorially, “Well-well _you_ -“ He stumbled over his words, his mess of emotions fighting each other for dominance. Whatever won was something dreadfully childish, “You haven’t been giving me any attention!”

At that, Dakota lifted himself partially off the floor, shifting so he could sit cross legged. He was making a face somewhere between disbelief and disgust. “Are you serious? This is the third day in a row I’ve visited you. Do you want me to just stop sleeping?”

“That’s not what I mean,” Cavendish crossed his arms over his chest to deter himself from wavering. “I mean you haven’t said a word about…” One of his hands wandered up to his face, hovering over his mouth and just barely grazing his mustache. “ _that_.”

Dakota slumped a little, relaxing his body. “Oh, is that all?” His tone was so dismissive it was infuriating.

“That’s not ‘all!’” He made angry air quotes. “We kissed! On the lips! It was a big deal, and you don’t even care!”

Dakota blinked. “What are you talking about? Of course I care.”

“You don’t act like it.” Cavendish stood his ground.

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Read you Shakespeare?” Dakota gave him an uncertain half smile.

There it was again. The creeping sensation that Dakota was only playing. It made him feel like his mouth was full of tar. “I thought you would stop treating my feelings like a joke.” Cavendish spat, glaring at him. “But I should’ve known better. Everything’s just a big joke to you. If you can’t be serious, just go home.” Cavendish stormed off.

“Balthazar, wait!” Dakota chased after him. “I care! I care a lot! I just didn’t wanna pressure you!” Dakota caught up, but that was because Cavendish had slowed to a stop. “I thought it was kinda sudden and you seem like one of those classy guys who take things like a snail, so I was gonna let you start it next time you were ready. I mean,” he laughed, “you still call me Dakota! Not even my boss calls me that!”

Cavendish turned around to look at him, his annoyance quickly fading into curiosity. “Is it really any different than when you call me ‘man’ or ‘dude?’”

“Those are more, uh, verbal tics than anything else. When I wanna talk about you, I call you Balthazar.” Dakota paused a beat. “Which you _said_ you were okay with, but…”

“No,” Cavendish said before he could finish his thought. “I don’t mind it.” That was a strange way of saying _my knees get weak every time you do it_. He tried not to let his excitement show, speaking as coolly as he was able, “So you’d like me to call you Vinnie, then?”

“Since day one, dude. Uh, Balthazar. Since day one, Balthazar.” Dakota corrected himself. “That’s gonna take a while to stop.”

The fact that Dakota was immediately ready to switch up his speaking patterns for Cavendish’s sake caused the corners of his mouth to splinter into a smile. “‘Dude’ is more than fine, Vinnie.”

Dakota stared at him, his expression something close to awe. “I love…” he seemed to snap out of it, “your stupid accent.” He mocked it, “ _Vinnie. Vin-nie! Viiiiinieeeee._ Man, I could do it so much better in your body.”

“Nevermind, I just won’t speak to you at all.” Cavendish grumbled, walking away again.

“Don’t be like that!” Dakota followed him with a laugh, “Ooh, how about a pet name? Are there vampire ones? What would they even be like? Bitey? Sugar neck? Nosferatu-but-hot?”

“The closest to a term of endearment you’ll get is _mutt_.” Cavendish rolled his eyes.

“Aww, I like it,” Dakota said, not picking up on his sarcasm, “I guess I’ve already got Batazar for you. And it’s a good pun, but I think I can do better.”

Cavendish couldn’t take it anymore. He stopped, gently grabbing Dakota’s arm to get his attention. “I need you to be frank with me, Vinnie.”

Dakota glanced at him, then at his hand on his arm, then back to him. He grinned, “...How can I be Frank if I’m Vinnie?”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to talk about,” Cavendish sighed. “What...what is this to you, Vinnie? What am I to you?”

Dakota’s amusement almost vanished totally. He cocked his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

Cavendish swallowed. He was having trouble keeping eye contact. “Are we just playing? Everytime I think something meaningful happens, you go right back to joking around. I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier, but I did mean what I said. You don’t take anything seriously. And I was hoping...” his voice wavered, “I was hoping I meant more to you than that.”

They were silent for a moment. Slowly, Dakota pointed up at the ceiling. “Is there a way up onto your roof?”

Like always, Dakota managed to be completely unpredictable. Cavendish raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

“Is there?”

Cavendish nodded uncertainly. “I don’t see what that has to do with-“

“Perfect.” Dakota grabbed the hand that Cavendish still had on his arm, holding it in his own. “Lead the way.”

Unsure what else he could do and partially curious to see what Dakota was planning, Cavendish led him up to the roof. Once in the night air, Dakota stifled a groan against the muggy heat. He squeezed Cavendish’s hand and brought him to the edge of the roof. They looked out over the town, a few flickers of lights in windows, but mostly dark. Dakota took a deep breath. He cupped his free hand over his mouth and shouted with everything he had, “I KISSED BALTHAZAR CAVENDISH!”

Cavendish jumped a little next to him. He looked at him, still visibly startled. “What are you doing?”

“HE MEANS A LOT TO ME AND I’M NOT SCARED TO ADMIT IT! I’M NOT ASHAMED OF HIM AND I DON’T THINK HE’S A JOKE! AND I’LL SHOUT IT FROM EVERY ROOFTOP IN TOWN IF THAT’S WHAT HE WANTS!”

For once, it was Dakota being genuine and Cavendish laughing. Half out of relief, and half out of marvel at how ridiculous the guy could be.

“AND IF I’M BEING HONEST I’VE DATED A LOT OF FOLKS BUT I’VE NEVER BEEN ANY GOOD AT BEING ROMANTIC! I WISH THAT I COULD DO SOMETHING REALLY COOL FOR HIM BUT I DON’T KNOW HOW SO I’VE JUST BEEN SITTING AROUND LIKE A CHUMP!”  
“You’re not a chump,” Cavendish did not try to stop himself from laughing. It felt good. “And you might say you’re not romantic, but you’re the only man who’s ever yelled from a rooftop for me.”

Dakota smiled at him, voice a little raspy from shouting, “What? You’re kidding.” In the warm star light, he seemed to glow. Cavendish could see the tips of his teeth through his parted lips, still hung open in a dorky grin. It left him with a craving he had all but forgotten.

“Can I kiss you?” Cavendish, despite not having screamed, sounded a little out of breath. Their lips hadn’t even touched yet and Dakota managed to steal his voice away.

“That’d be nice.” Dakota leaned in and Cavendish met him halfway. Warmth flooded Cavendish’s mouth. This time they let it linger. Dakota kept trying to pull him in closer, and Cavendish found himself adoring the idea that he was what Dakota was hungry for. Cavendish’s hand wandered into his hair, and touching his ears seemed to get quite a positive reaction. Dakota ran his tongue across Cavendish’s teeth, and started to explore the inside of his mouth.

Cavendish realized he was leaning a little too heavily into Dakota when he knocked him off the roof.

There was a rather unfortunate crunch when he hit the ground. Cavendish peered over the edge, seeing him sprawled on the lawn, his right leg bent the wrong way. “Are you alright?” He asked anyway. It was the polite thing to do.

“Yep.” Dakota gasped, eyes still wide with pain. “I’m great.”

Cavendish waited a moment, but it didn’t seem like Dakota was getting up any time soon. “Do you want me to jump down too or…?”

“Nah, just give me a minute.” Dakota sat up, wincing. He grabbed his leg and tried to twist it back to where it was supposed to be, letting out a string of curses as he did it.

Cavendish felt kind of awkward just standing there, so he decided to jump down anyway. Before Dakota could even call out to him, he had floated down, landing on his feet. Now that he was closer, he could see the little scrapes on Dakota disappearing almost as quickly as they were formed. Dakota stared at him. “How did you do that?”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m a vampire until you actually believe it?” Cavendish sat down next to him, so it would look like they were just chilling, as opposed to Dakota sitting on the lawn trying to mend a broken bone by himself. “Was the kiss okay?”

“It was more than okay,” Dakota laughed, albeit a little weakly due to the level of physical discomfort he was in. Werewolves didn’t feel pain as strongly as humans did, but they still felt it. “The fangs and the mustache are new to me, but I’m learnin’ to love it.”

Cavendish wrinkled his nose. “You’ve never kissed someone with a mustache before?”

“They’re a little old fashioned, dude,” Dakota shrugged. “But it’s a good look for you. And I’m not just saying that so you don’t push me off another roof.”

“And I can tell you truthfully those sideburns are _horrible_.” Cavendish started picking apart the grass. It had been a long time since he just sat in the dirt. It wasn’t bad. Nothing was _bad_ when he was with Dakota.

“Well, I couldn’t get rid of them now, even if I wanted to, with the whole shaving thing.” Dakota winked at him, as if that had been a subtle reference to his lycanthropy. “Ugh, it’s awful out here, can I take off my shirt? I’m gonna take off my shirt.” He peeled his tank top off, dropping it in the grass. He wrapped his hands back around his hurt leg and sighed with relief. “Yeah, that’s better.”

Cavendish tried not to stare at his exposed midsection, but Dakota clearly had no problem with him taking a look. His fuller form was truly something to behold, looking so soft and touchable. Cavendish quit his drooling when he saw the scar, however. Almost a full year later and it still looked painful. There was that aching in his fangs again.

“Balthazar?” Dakota snapped him out of it. “Did you hear what I said?”

“My apologies. Could you repeat it?” Cavendish asked, hoping his old man charm would save him from having to explain why he was zoning out.

Dakota stared at him, and Cavendish was afraid he saw right through him, but then he admitted, “I forgot what I was saying.” He laid back, injured knee still precariously bent. “I’ll remember eventually.”

Cavendish followed suit and laid down next to him. “Vinnie?”

“Mhm?” Dakota was staring up at the sky. The stars were reflected in his eyes. How could every part of him be so pretty?

“Will you hold my hand again?” 

“You don’t gotta ask,” Dakota chuckled and took his hand. “But it’s sweet that you do. Oh! I remember what I was saying! I was telling you that you shouldn’t ever change. You’re super just how you are.”

Cavendish thought about who he was before he met Dakota. Cold and lonely and having tricked himself into thinking he was better off that way. He thought of all the experiences he nearly missed out on, because he refused to interact with people. Because he was afraid. “No.” He finally said. “I’m going to keep changing.”

“Okay,” Dakota relented, not quite understanding, but admiring the conviction in his voice. “Just promise me you won’t change your mind about wanting to hold my hand.”

“Now that I could promise as many times as you’d like.”


	20. I Am Soft For Only You

As the days went on, Dakota started paying more attention to Cavendish, learning how to figure out what he wanted even when he didn’t say it. Which was a lot of the time. Cavendish still thought the idea of wanting another person was embarrassing, but that didn’t stop him from wanting. 

When Cavendish opened the door that night, Dakota had Milo hoisted up on his shoulders, Zack under one of his arms like a football, and Melissa wrapped around his leg like a koala. Down on limbs, Dakota just lifted his head in greeting. “Sup.” 

Cavendish glanced over the group and quirked an eyebrow. “Dare I even ask?”

“Well Milo here sprained his ankle,” he paused so Milo could pipe in with a ‘hi!’ Before he continued his story, “so I was gonna give him a piggyback ride, but then these knuckleheads wanted to see how much I could carry, so they clumped on too. I was always good with heavy lifting, but I think being a werewolf has really bumped that up.”

“Can you stop whacking me with your tail?” Melissa complained, freeing one of her hands to fend it off.

“Yeah, just get off of me.” He wiggled his leg, halfheartedly attempting to shake her off.

“He’s really strong, which made us wanna ask, are werewolves stronger than vampires?” Zack craned his neck to look up at them. Cavendish opened his mouth to answer, but he was interrupted.

“I can’t speak for everyone, but in this case, I’m definitely stronger.” Dakota spoke with confidence. “I mean, look at him. Balth’s got no meat on his bones.”

“You don’t actually think that, right?” Cavendish made a face. “I’ve been in your body. I know for a fact I’m stronger.”

Milo and Melissa cheered “prove it!”s while Zack was just puzzled over “wait, you’ve been in his body?”

Dakota grinned, bringing the kids into the foyer and setting Milo down on the couch. He placed Zack next to him and then peeled Melissa off of his leg. He left for a moment, returning with a table from the other room. He placed it down, resting his elbow on it and holding his hand up in the air. “Only one way to know.”

Realizing he was being challenged to arm wrestle, Cavendish mirrored his pose and clasped his hand firmly. “This is ridiculous,” he said, as if he wasn’t going along with it. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Dakota snorted. “Yeah, right. Don’t bother going easy on me, or you’ll be the one getting hurt.”

“Ready?” Melissa took over the role of the referee. “One, two, go!”

They heard the smack of Dakota hitting the wall before they even registered what happened.

Cavendish had flipped Dakota and thrown him across the room. There was a few seconds of stunned silence. A book slid off the shelf above him and fell on his head, which broke the spell they all seemed to be under. Yells of disbelief and amusement erupted, with Milo begging Cavendish, “me next!”

Cavendish vehemently refused. “Absolutely not. I need you in one piece. _He_ can break, you can’t.”

“How romantic.” Dakota groaned, swatting the book away, still sounding winded.

Cavendish glanced at him. “Am I supposed to apologize for this?”

“No, this one's on me.” Dakota waved him off. “I asked you to give it your all.” He stood up and made his laborious way back. An idea must’ve hit him, because he huddled up the kids, talking to them in hushed tones. They reached some kind of agreement. He turned back to Cavendish, “I want a rematch.”

“Didn’t you get bruised enough the first time?” Cavendish couldn’t help but gloat a little. He loved the chance to show off.

“Yeah, no, you just got my pride. And nothing heals that faster than a little revenge.” Dakota resituated himself so he was ready to go. Melissa and Zack stood a couple feet behind him, most likely to get a better look.

“It’s your funeral.” Cavendish grabbed his hand again. He didn’t think throwing someone could be so fun, but he was more than ready to do it again. The kids being impressed with him certainly didn’t hurt his ego, either. 

“One, two…” Milo took over the countdown this time from his place on the couch. “Go!”

Before the word had even left his mouth, Melissa and Zack made crosses with their fingers. Cavendish flinched and Dakota slammed his hand down on the table triumphantly. “Woo!” Dakota high fived his two minions.

“That wasn’t fair!” Cavendish sputtered, still processing what just happened.

“Why not? If you can use your crazy vampire strength, then it only makes sense I get to use your crazy vampire weaknesses too.” Dakota was unapologetic. No, more than that, he was smug. Cavendish narrowed his eyes. _Two could play this game._

“Zack, would you come here for a moment?” Cavendish did not break eye contact with Dakota as he called Zack to his side of the table. He whispered into his ear, and Zack left the room. “Rematch?”

“Sure,” Dakota agreed easily, lifting their hands back up to the midpoint. “Can’t prove I’m tougher unless we break the tie.”

Zack returned to the room, standing behind Cavendish. Melissa and Milo asked what he had been up to with their eyes, but he just whistled innocently. Milo settled for finding out what it was after the match, so he started, “One, two, go!”

Melissa hit Cavendish with the finger cross, but before Dakota could take advantage of it, Zack pulled out what he had left to get. Tennis ball in hand, Zack faked a throw and Dakota didn’t even notice Cavendish winning before he ran off after the ball that had never actually left Zack’s hand. He returned looking betrayed.

“That was low,” Dakota pouted. “He could’ve at least thrown it for real.”

“You started this.” Cavendish stuck out his tongue at him, and so the war began.

The kids, being the little devils they were, reveled in each cape pull, tail yank, moral lowering comment about mustaches, knocking on the wall to make it sound like there was someone outside, flashing phone lights in eyes, and so on, all sprinkled with various small Murphy style disasters, until they were tied thirty to thirty.

“Are you ready to give up yet?” Cavendish asked, still going strong, if not _more_ motivated than before.

“I’ve got a good plan this time,” Dakota was also undeterrable. The mischievous glint occupying his eyes was surprisingly attractive.

Milo, still resting on the couch like he was clean of the whole event but providing all the cheap shot materials, counted down one more time, “One, two, go!”

Before any other traps could be set in motion, Dakota leaned across the table and kissed him. Sparks went off in his head. Cavendish immediately dissolved into it, arm going limp and falling away unimpressively onto the table. He didn’t care.

Dakota gave him a crooked smile as he pulled away. “I win?”

“You win,” Cavendish yielded submissively, in a lovestruck daze.

“Fuck yeah! I win!” Dakota cheered, giving high fives to everyone. “Werewolves are stronger!”

“I think that was a biased experiment,” Melissa smiled as she sat down next to Milo, kicking her feet up on the arm wrestling table.

“What about a werewolf vampire?” Milo brought up. “Would it be stronger than both?”

“Could that even happen?” Zack didn’t sound convinced. There had to be a line somewhere. 

That was a question Dakota couldn’t answer. He looked at Cavendish, finally snapping him out of it. “If I bit you, would you turn into a were-pire?”

“No.” Cavendish’s mind fled to Drako. “I-it’d have to be o-our…” he couldn’t bring himself to say it. The moment he said it, then he’d have to think about it, and then he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it. He was getting ahead of himself anyway. They had only kissed a few times, and he was trying to think about a _baby_? He cleared his throat, changing the topic, “It doesn’t matter who you bite right now, they don’t transform unless you’re a wolf when you do it.”

“Ooh, so I can still give hick-“ Dakota stopped himself, remembering there were impressionable children in the room. He laughed nervously, “I mean, man, you guys always say how friendly I am in that form, I probably won’t have to worry about biting anyone.”

Cavendish remembered how afraid Dakota was of hurting people. And while that hadn’t been an issue yet, he could still offer him peace of mind. “That’s not guaranteed.” He spoke stiffly, “But, if you would like, I could train you not to bite. You’re already domesticated, so it wouldn’t be very hard.”

Dakota laughed. “Sounds good. See? I told you guys, he’s a big sweetheart.”

Cavendish tried to argue against his niceness, but the kids were sharing looks that made it clear they would not be convinced.

The next full moon, Dakota wasn’t exactly taking to his lessons.

“Sit.” Cavendish said slowly, and Dakota sat. He could do that part just fine. It was the next part he had trouble with. “Very good. Now, stay.” Cavendish took a single step back and Dakota stood back up and closed the distance between them, sitting down again as if Cavendish wouldn’t notice he moved. Cavendish sighed. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise. Just sit still.”

Dakota was distracted. Not that he would’ve responded anyway. “Wuff!” He bounded towards the door, tail wagging a mile a minute.

Cavendish followed after him. “Okay, okay. I get the message.” He opened the door a crack, and there were Milo, Melissa and Zack. “What are you all doing here? It’s a full moon!”

“We’re here to help you teach Dakota not to bite,” Zack replied. “Isn’t that what we decided?”

Melissa and Milo nodded. Cavendish chided them, “I don’t care what you three decided on, you shouldn’t be here. If he bites me, nothing is going to happen. But if he bites one of you…” Cavendish trailed off, knowing his point was clear.

“You think after everything we’ve been through, we can’t fend off a puppy?” Melissa gave him a look, and it was hard to argue with that. “So how’s it been going?”

“Not great,” Cavendish admitted. “He can’t even do ‘stay’ yet. I don’t know how I’m supposed to teach him ‘if you put your teeth on that person you’re going to seriously regret it’ if he’s having trouble with this concept.”

“Are you giving him treats?” Milo asked. Diogee was technically a service dog, so Milo didn’t have to train him, but he did volunteer at the local animal shelter whenever he had the time.

“I don’t have any…” Before Cavendish could even finish that thought, Milo’s hand was making a slow descent into his backpack. “Alright, fine, what do you have?”

“Since it is Mr. Vinnie, I don’t know if he’d like dog treats, but I do have peanut butter,” Milo pulled out a jar. He continued to rifle through his bag, pulling out a screwdriver, a fancy scarf, and a can of hairspray before finding a spoon. He handed both to Cavendish. Cavendish opened the door more so they could squeeze in. Expecting (rightfully) that Cavendish would forget, Zack turned on the light.

Melissa started playing with Dakota immediately, rolling him over so she could scratch his tummy. “Look, I can make him kick his leg!” She squealed with delight. Milo and Zack knelt beside her, cooing and petting. Dakota was having the time of his life.

“I know he’s cute, but we’re trying to accomplish something here, remember? Now is not the time for playing,” Cavendish scolded them gently. They reluctantly stopped petting him. Dakota uprighted himself, confused as to why all the affection suddenly stopped. Cavendish snapped his fingers to get his attention. “Okay. Sit.” Dakota sat down. Cavendish paused, looking to the kids for help, “do I give it to him now?”

“Yeah!” Milo nodded enthusiastically. Zack gave him a thumbs up.

Cavendish offered him half a spoonful of peanut butter, which Dakota snacked on happily. He finished it, but it was not finished with him. It got stuck to the roof of his mouth, causing him to keep trying to lick it off. It would be pointless to try and get him to do anything right now while he was so preoccupied, and they were all just as caught up in watching him.

“Why aren’t we filming this? Youtube would love it,” Melissa snickered as they watched him fight valiantly against the treat.

“Maybe you could just teach him to eat peanut butter instead of people,” Zack had the decency to try and hide his laughter. “He wouldn’t be able to get his mouth unstuck to bite anybody.”

“If only all of humanity’s problems could be solved like this,” Milo sighed wistfully.

Once Dakota had freed his mouth, he returned to Cavendish hoping for more. Cavendish set down the peanut butter. Dakota took this as an invitation to stick his face in it, but Cavendish had picked him up before he could do it. He held him so they were face to face. “What am I supposed to do with you?” He tried to give him a serious look. Dakota licked his nose a couple times. “Kiss you? Well gosh, Vinnie, I don’t see how that will help.” Cavendish placed a kiss on top of his head. “See? You’re still a little troublemaker. But you’re my little troublemaker.”

Cavendish only then remembered they weren’t alone when he heard Zack’s muffled screeching. He looked up to see all three kids dying from cuteness overload. Mortified, he dropped Dakota, who was not a cat and as such, did not land on his feet. Dakota shook it off, only to be scooped up by Milo. Milo buried his face in his fluff to stop himself from screaming.

“I didn’t...I forgot…” Cavendish tried pitifully to explain himself before giving up. “Please don’t tell him I did that.”

“Sure,” Melissa drawled, but she was smiling wickedly, typing on her phone.

“Melissa, if you’re texting him,” Cavendish was unable to sound threatening at the moment, but they heard the ding of his phone from the other room. They all looked at each other, and then, it was a mad dash.

“Do NOT throw his phone out a window, Cavendish!” Zack warned him, running after him. “You’re better than this!”

“I’m not throwing it out the window, I’m just going to smash it into a billion pieces!” Cavendish shouted back.

“He sells pistachios, he doesn’t have money for a new phone!” Milo pleaded on Dakota’s behalf, who Milo was carrying like a baby. Melissa was just cackling.

Zack jumped on his back in an unsuccessful attempt to tackle him. “Don’t be afraid of your feelings!”

“I have a reputation to keep!” Cavendish didn’t bother trying to shake him off, which was a mistake, as Zack wasn’t afraid to punch or kick.

“What reputation?” Melissa gasped, tears pricking her eyes, “He already knows you’re lovey dovey!” 

Milo ran in front of him, “just look at his little face, Mr. Cavendish!” He thrusted Dakota forward. Dakota’s little pink tongue stuck out, and that was enough to overpower Cavendish and stop him in his tracks. “You don’t want to destroy his phone, do you?” Milo and Dakota double teamed him with the puppy dog eyes.

“Okay, I’m calm,” he promised, bending at his knees so Zack’s slide back to the ground was easier. “Will you please just delete the message?”

Zack checked Dakota’s phone, turning back to Cavendish. Melissa burst into another fit of giggles. He said, “Uh, Melissa just sent him a text saying ‘huhhhhh horses huhhhhhh.’”

“Right then.” Cavendish nodded. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go impale myself.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Melissa laughed, “I got you good!”

Zack snorted, freezing when Cavendish shot him a glare. “What? I didn’t say anything!”

“Would it really have been so bad if Mr. Vinnie knew you had been acting like that with him? You already do it when he’s human.” Milo couldn’t hide his confusion.

“I do not!” Cavendish spoke defensively. Realizing how pointless his argument was, he despaired, “No, you’re right, I’ve gone irredeemably soft.”

“Who said you couldn’t?” Melissa joked simply, but it caused Cavendish to have a miniature revelation. Everyone else saw him for what he tried to hide, and they didn’t care. The only one berating him was himself. 

“Enough of this, it’s late, you three should be going to sleep,” Cavendish was met with a series of complaints. But he knew their language, “whoever is ready for bed first gets to cuddle with the puppy.”

They took off immediately, Milo nearly tossing Dakota onto the couch in his hurry. In less than ten seconds, they had cleared out of the room. Dakota hopped off the couch and sat next to Cavendish. Cavendish looked down at him, tone laced with amusement, “You’re not getting anymore peanut butter, if that’s what you’re after.”

But Dakota stuck next to him anyway, and Cavendish wondered if his inability to stay was a disciplinary issue, or if he just enjoyed being close to him. Cavendish decided he liked the latter better. So, for once, he allowed himself to believe it. 


	21. A Drink On Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for injury, blood, and alcohol in this chapter!

“Guess who’s going out tonight?” Dakota sang as he entered the manor. Cavendish assumed the question was rhetorical, but Dakota thought he just didn’t have a clue. “You. You’re going out tonight. Well, so am I. We’re going out together. Tonight.”

“I got it,” Cavendish rolled his eyes. “Where are we going and why?”

“Well, earlier while I was out, my hair caught on fire. It grows back so fast, look at that, you can’t even tell it got scorched this morning,” Dakota pointed to a chunk of his hair, “Anyway, I was like, ‘yo Milo,’ because it must’ve been because of Milo, yeah? But it wasn’t! I mean, he kinda looked like Milo, but his scars were in different places and he was missing a finger and also he was like thirty years old.”

“ _Fascinating_.” Cavendish said dryly, wanting Dakota to speed up his story.

“Okay, so it was actually Milo’s dad, and so we started talking, but he kept sneezing, and was all ‘sorry I’m allergic to dogs,’ and I was like ‘uhhh but you have a dog?’ And so he was like ‘no Diogee’s hyperallergenic-‘“

“Hypo.” Cavendish butt in.

Dakota glanced at him. “What?”

“Mr. Murphy most likely said hypoallergenic.” Cavendish explained. “Hyperallergenic isn’t a word, and if it was, it would imply Diogee is even worse for his allergies than most dogs, since the prefix hyper refers to excess.”

“How do you keep all of that in your head?” Dakota was mildly miffed over being corrected, but there was an undertone of awe in his vice.

Cavendish shrugged plainly. “I don’t have much else going on.”

Dakota snorted. “Alright then. Long story short, he invited us out to get drinks or something. Apparently we’re not Milo’s only babysitters, because he’s bringing the wifey too.”

“Why would you agree to something like that?” Cavendish’s stomach filled with dread. The Murphys were nice folks, but his social anxiety made no exceptions.

“Because we are well adjusted adults who can handle a double date.” Dakota only registered the words once they were out of his mouth, and then it was too late to take them back.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” His dread mixed with excitement to create a truly terrible concoction, but his mind was still trying to process the idea of a date and didn’t have time to worry about that.

“I guess I am.” Dakota smiled nervously.

Cavendish paused for a dramatic stretch of time, pretending he had to really consider this. His voice betrayed him with a giddy crack, “I accept.”

“Awesome! Let’s go.” Dakota grabbed his hand and started walking, being yanked to a stop when Cavendish wasn’t walking too.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to wear _that_.” Cavendish made a face at him. While the garish shorts and stained tank top were surprisingly alluring to him, they were not proper date night clothes. And that clunky chain that jingled with every quick movement? From a legal standpoint, he shouldn’t even be allowed to wear that outside.

“Don’t throw stones in a glass house, Balthazar. You’re dressed like it’s 1875 and you’re gonna rob a grave.” Dakota eyed his outfit. “We don’t have time for to go back to my place, so I couldn’t change if I wanted to.”

“You could borrow some of my clothes.” Cavendish pointed behind, in the general direction of his room.

“I don’t think you realize just how tempting that is.” Dakota looked like he was facing the greatest conflict of his life. “Okay, I need to find the ugliest thing you have and put it on my body. Wait here.” Dakota patted him on the chest and took off running.

“My clothes are not ugly.” Cavendish grumbled, but he looked over what he was wearing. It wasn’t *that* odd. Maybe it was the cape. He slowly unhooked it, letting it fall to the floor. He absentmindedly traced his fingers over his bite mark.

“Okay I’m-hey, you took off your cape!” Dakota ran up behind him, startling him. He quickly popped his collar and turned to look at him. Dakota’s grin faded. “Are you crying?”

Cavendish hadn’t notice it, but his eyes had welled up with tears. He wiped at them and blinked furiously, trying to erase any sign of feelings. “No, sorry, I was just thinking about...it was a long time ago. Why don’t you tell me about what you’re wearing?”

“Sure,” Dakota could tell he wanted to drop it, so he tried to cheer him up. “Well, I found this horrible maroon and lime shirt that I wanted, but I hated the texture. So I grabbed this purple one with the yellow strings on the shoulders instead, because look at it. Did people really wear stuff like this? Then I found these bell bottom pants? Why do you have these?”

Cavendish smiled at his confusion. “I _have_ gotten more clothes as the years go on. I just prefer wearing the ones that are more formal.”

“Well, I think you should dress more like this. I also grabbed a cape, for the mysterious allure.” Dakota spun in a little circle to show it off. He examined Cavendish’s cape-free shoulders. “Are you sure you’re comfortable showing that much neck?”

“You’re right. Just a moment.” Cavendish left the room, practically gliding. He returned with the scarf Dakota made him around his neck. “Much better.”

Dakota lit up, but didn’t let himself take it as a compliment. “Is that the only scarf you own or something?”

“No, but it’s the ugliest.” He got a hearty laugh for that. He grabbed Dakota’s hand again. “Now I’m ready to go.”

They walked together, making pleasant conversation as Dakota swung their hands. They ran into a blonde girl dressed almost as bizarrely as they were, a borderline steampunk outfit with her left hand stuffed in a gift wrapped box. There was some kind of unspoken respect between them. Dakota and the girl nodded at each other before they parted ways.

They finally met up with the Murphy parents, who welcomed them warmly outside of the bar. They all introduced each other properly before they decided to go in. Dakota nudged Cavendish with his elbow, winking, “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” He turned to the front doors and shouted, “HEY, ARE YOU GUYS OPEN?”

An employee inside opened the door. “Yeah, come on in.”

Dakota gave him a doofy smile. “The whole way over I was trying to figure out how to get you invited in.”

Cavendish tried to hide how impressed he was. Brigette and Martin led them in and over to a table. They slid into booths, sitting beside who they came in with. “So, Milo’s been telling me a lot about you,” Martin said, which made his wife laugh.

“All the time! He thinks you’re both very cool,” Brigette agreed. “We’re happy there’s some adults in town he can trust that aren’t afraid of Murphy’s Law.”

“I guess I get other kids getting freaked out by it, but adults?” Dakota spoke with disbelief. “It’s not that hard to get used to. And it’s just probability,” he was interrupted by Martin sneezing, “so like, anything that happens might’ve happened anyway.”

“It’s easy for us to say that, we’re basically unkillable.” Cavendish pointed out. “But Milo is such a good kid, I’m surprised that the whole town hasn’t tried to adopt him.”

Brigette sent her husband a knowing smile, which Dakota and Cavendish didn’t understand, but figured they weren’t supposed to.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Dakota asked, playing with the edge of his cape. It must’ve been a texture he liked.

“Well, I’m a safety inspector.” Martin laughed lightly when Dakota snorted. “I know, I know, it seems ironic, buh-buh-pardon me,” he sneezed. Brigette handed him a tissue, which he accepted gratefully. He continued, sniffling, “but Murphy’s Law actually helps me make sure things are in tip-top condition.”

Brigette nodded along with his words. “And I’m an architect. Though I skip around a bit. When opportunity knocks, I’ll always give it a fair chance.”

Martin wrapped his arm around her waist. “Yeah, she’s very ambitious. I’m lucky I could slow her down long enough to marry me.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” She pecked his cheek, turning back to Dakota. “And what about you, dear?”

“My job’s way less exciting than those.” He jerked a thumb at Cavendish. “And he doesn’t work at all.” A thought occurred to him, Cavendish could tell because he sat up a little straighter. “Balthazar, can I get drunk?”

“I’m not your keeper, do whatever you want,” Cavendish said dismissively.

“No, I mean, physically,” Dakota looked down at himself, placing a hand over his chest. “I heal so fast, can I even get intoxicated? And what about you?”

“I’m not going to put anything in my mouth.” Cavendish refused instantly. He was an avid hater of eating and drinking, but there was nothing actually stopping him from doing it.

“Are you backing down from a challenge? Are you too chicken?” Dakota heckled him, poking him in the arm.

Cavendish swatted his hand away, too prideful to give up. “Of course not. I’ll do it.”

“You lovely folks getting wasted tonight?” Dakota glanced at the Murphys.

“Alcohol and Murphy’s Law are a bad mix,” Martin shook his head. He sneezed a few times in a row. Dakota briefly wondered if he was shedding at all.

“And I’m driving.” Brigette declined as well.

“If that’s the case, can you keep track of who drinks more?” Dakota smiled pleasantly, then turned to Cavendish. “I’m going to count throwing up as forfeiting.” He then waved down a waiter, asking for whatever held the highest alcohol concentration.

Five drinks in and Dakota was feeling a regrettable amount of nothing. It was like he had been drinking fruit juice all evening. “Yeah, I don’t think this is working. Thanks for being a good sport anyway, Balthazar.” He patted his back, then pointed at Brigette. “And thank you for keeping track of how many drinks we’ve chugged.”

“No problem,” Brigette cleared the numbers off her notes app and put her phone away.

“It’s hot in here, Vinnie,” Cavendish complained. The temperature usually didn’t affect him, but he’d take any opportunity to complain.

“You’re telling me, this is way too many layers of clothing for August,” Dakota laughed. Cavendish looked over at him with half lidded eyes. He reached over and grabbed Dakota’s cape, fumbling with the clasp. “Use your words, dude. You want it back already?”

“It’s too hot for you,” Cavendish slurred. “You gotta-gotta get these clothes off.”

Dakota blinked at him, grabbing his hands and returning them to his lap without much of a fight. “Wait, are you actually drunk?”

“No. No! I’m not drunk.” He scoffed, but wobbled a little. “Can I wear your glasses? I wanna see more colors.”

“Does he usually drink that much?” Brigette quirked an eyebrow.

Dakota’s mistakes were beginning to dawn on him. “No, we should’ve taken that slower. At least he can’t get alcohol poisoning. I think? I wonder what the science behind this is.”

Cavendish had erupted into giggles now. “S’funny. You’re so funny. Y’think our children are gonna be funny like you?”

Dakota choked on the air. “Yeah, okay, I should get him home. We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

“I don’t wanna go home! It’s too early!” Cavendish whined. “I wanna…” he noticed Brigette and Martin across the table, so he moved in closer, cupping his hand over Dakota’s ear, but he didn’t speak any quieter, “I wanna take off your clothes, and I wanna get you in the bathroom, and I wanna fuck you.”

Brigette slapped Martin’s hand when he started snickering. Dakota’s face was turning red. “I’m gonna hafta pass.”

“You wanna see how my penis works, right? It wants to see you too.” Cavendish lost his balance, draping his arms around Dakota’s shoulders. “S’cool, s’cool, I wanna show you.” He rested his head against him. “Aww, there’s your heartbeat! Hi, Vinnie’s heart. Thanks for giving him air, I love you.”

Dakota moved him around so he could hoist him over his shoulder. “Had a great time, really, tell Milo we send him our love-“ he was interrupted by a light kick to the face, as Cavendish floated out of his arms, feet aimed for the ceiling. “Would you stop that?”

“Are you going to need help with him?” Brigette asked, concerned but still amused. Especially in their funny clothes, they looked like circus performers.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’ve got him, even if he’s a bit of a handful.” As if on cue, Cavendish simply vanished. Dakota stared at the empty space with wide eyes. “No, no, no, that’s not what I meant, you can be a handful, it’s fine, please don’t vaporize.”

A scream erupted from the other side of the bar, so Dakota ran that way. After a second he came back, hurriedly putting down the money he owed before running off again. Martin smiled at Brigette. “Reminds me of our fourth date.”

She smiled back, fond of the memory. “I had never seen that many coast guards or tire swings before.”

Cavendish had rematerialized (Dakota would have to ask him what the _fuck_ he did later) on another person’s table, downing their drink. “Balthazar! Oh my god, I am so sorry, ma’am,” he dug out his wallet, “it’s been a long night.” He gave her the amount he assumed the drink costed, giving Cavendish a pointed look, “What are you doing, man? That doesn’t belong to you.”

He giggled. “You were right, Vinnie, is so good. I love this stuff! Humans know how to party! But it could taste better.”

“We can discuss this later,” Dakota helped him down from the table, slinging his arm over his shoulders to give him more support. “If you walk out of here with me like a normal person, I’ll give you a surprise.”

Cavendish considered his offer. “What kinda surprise?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.” This worked pretty well, and Dakota managed to get him outside without further incident. Just some odd looks from strangers. They made it a distance from the restaurant. 

“Is...is my surprise blood?” Cavendish stumbled, trying to whisper again. “Because I need some.”

“Shit, are you just saying that, or do you actually?” Dakota panicked internally. He should’ve asked more questions about how he feeds. His mind raced, searching for a solution. “Uh, fuck, I can’t have you biting anyone while you’re like this, you might kill them.”

“I’m _hungry_ , Vinnie,” he fussed. “I need it.”

Dakota couldn’t think of anything smarter, so he just unclipped his cape and pulled his shirt collar aside, tilting his head to the side. “You can just bite me, okay?” He said softly. “I know I don’t taste the best, but blood is blood.”

Cavendish looked at him for what felt like a very long time. In the dark, his eyes seemed to glow. They were piercing. It was like he was staring right through his skin and bone. He wondered if he liked what he saw. 

Finally, Cavendish leaned down, his mustache brushing up against his collarbone as he clumsily aimed. “I love you,” Cavendish mumbled against his flesh.

“Sure you do.” Dakota tried not to let his fear show. Not that Cavendish would notice in his current state. It was just the principle of the matter. “Just pick a vein already.”

Cavendish sank his fangs in and Dakota bit back a whimper. He tried to hold still for him, but his knees were going weak. His vision started coming and going and Dakota wondered how much he could possibly take.

Cavendish pulled away too abruptly, tearing his skin as he went. He turned away from him and started coughing. He heaved up all the blood onto the sidewalk. It didn’t seem to stop. He really had taken a lot, or maybe time was going slower for Dakota. He did feel hazy. And sick to his stomach. The only thing that didn’t feel like he was experiencing it through seven layers of cotton was Cavendish’s bite, which stung red and angry.

In hindsight, this was not his best plan.

“I guess blood is not blood,” he muttered as he started to fall backwards. He couldn’t straighten back up. _Oh, well._ He’d survive cracking his head open on the cement.

But he didn’t hit the ground. It took him a while to notice that. He thought it was just taking a while to fall. But he had, in fact, stopped falling. He had been rescued by a blurry angel.

“Vinnie?” The blur asked him. It was Cavendish’s voice. Was his blood so foul that it sobered him up? “Are you alright?”

“I dunno,” he was pretty sure he said it. Maybe he just thought it very loudly. As he considered trying to say it again, he slipped fully from consciousness. 


	22. The Me Who’s With You

“Balthazar…?” Dakota stirred, shifting and falling right off the couch. Obviously, he was not expecting to be there. He sat up, looking disheveled and confused and woozy and _alive_ , and Cavendish thanked every god he could think of that Dakota was alive. Dakota looked at him, eyebrows sinking into a concerned gaze. “Dude, you look like shit.”

“Glad to see you’re alright too,” Cavendish deadpanned, but he knew where he was coming from. His skin had gone from paper white to ashy gray, and his veins were varying levels of visible, all dark and reasonably upsetting. His joints refused to bend more than twenty degrees away from their current angle. That did not stop him from hobbling over and sitting beside Dakota. His legs stuck out rather oddly, but that wasn’t important.

“What happened?” Dakota was rubbing his neck with a hand, and Cavendish looked away as guilt shot through him again. That cringe of pain was his fault. The mark was gone, but it didn’t erase what he did.

“I was hoping you could answer that for me,” Cavendish admitted. “My memory gets fuzzy after the second drink.”

“You were super wasted, I’m not surprised. Uh, you were getting really flirty and I was a little worried about the impression we were making ‘cause of that, but they were cool. Oh!” Dakota remembered something, and his tone became accusatory and borderline angry, “then you disappeared! Like, just straight up stopped existing for a little bit! You were in my arms, and then you weren’t! What the fuck was that?” He motioned wildly with his arms as he described it. Cavendish was jealous of his past self for getting to be in Dakota’s arms then not even have the decency to let him remember it. He went to speak, but Dakota stopped him, “Don’t tell me it’s ‘cause you’re a vampire. I got that part. I don’t need the how, I need the what. Did you _teleport_?”

“No, that’s preposterous.” What a silly notion. Dakota had the wildest imagination. “I just turned into mist.”

Dakota seemed more pissed off by the answer than his question. “Mist-that’s-it’s not a living thing.”

“Neither am I.” Cavendish countered to defend himself. “I’d show you right now, but I’m a little worse for wear as it is.”

Dakota shook his head, as if that would dispel his distractions. “Right, we’ll deal with that later. So I was getting you out of there and getting you home, but then you said you needed blood. You were still a mess, and I didn’t want you sucking on anyone while you were like that.”

“Do you have to phrase it like that?”

“Let me finish. I was worried you wouldn’t have the best self control and might do something you really regretted. Then I thought that if you took too much of my blood I’d still be okay, and maybe the taste would be able to deter you from going that far.” Dakota’s hand flopped down from his neck to his lap. “And then I’m not sure what happened.”

“Right. I’ve got it from here. I feel like I must’ve told you this, but perhaps it slipped my mind. The greatest defense a werewolf has against vampires,” Before, Cavendish was able to speak easily about their would-be fighting, but now he felt the discomfort he saw in the kids when he told them Drako wouldn’t like Dakota if he really was a vampire. “is their poisonous blood.”

“Poisonous?” Dakota’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah, no, I think I’d remember if you told me my body was filled with poison.”

That was a serious oversight on his part, then. He explained it now, “Well, it’s rather effective. A fourth of a pint is enough to paralyze a vampire for a week. And judging by the fact you passed out from blood loss, I took at least three pints.”

Dakota’s eyes were wide. “Oh.” That was all he could manage to say.

“Fortunately, I was so ridiculously intoxicated that my bodily functions were slowed to the point where it did not instantly affect me, and I was able to expel the majority of it.” Cavendish winced internally at the memory of last night. Carrying Dakota back while attempting not panic over his unconsciousness, while throwing up blood and trying to fend off its effects long enough to get them both home. 

“So if it wasn’t for dumb luck, you would’ve been paralyzed out on the sidewalk, and I would’ve been unconscious so no one would’ve helped you, and...the sun…” There was no way Dakota’s eyes could get wider than that. He stared at his feet. Horror was evident in his voice. “Oh my god, I almost killed you…”

“Exactly!” Cavendish was proud of him for catching on so fast.

Dakota covered his face with his hands, sliding down until he was laying on his back. “I’m the stupidest person in the whole world.”

“Why would you say something like that?” Cavendish was genuinely at a loss.

Dakota did not move. “You were vulnerable and I responded to that by almost burning you to death. Nobody else has ever done something that stupid.”

“Nonsense, there’s been worse.” Cavendish assured him cheerfully. “I mean, you nearly killed me, but keep in mind that someone actually killed me before! So hey, at least you aren’t them, right?”

Dakota just groaned.

He continued, “And in a way, I nearly killed you too. If you were human, that much blood loss would’ve probably resulted in death. You were unconscious all through the night. So we're even.”

“Wait, I was knocked out for the rest of the night?” Dakota peeked through his fingers, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “It’s day?”

Cavendish nodded, but the movement was barely noticeable due to his stiffness. “I bet it’s hard to tell when there’s no windows.”

“I guess so.” Dakota sat back up, presumably done moping. “Okay, what’s happening with you right now? I thought you said you got rid of most of my blood?”

“I did, but ‘most’ is not the same thing as ‘all.’ It’s still enough to make me feel my age.” He was hoping that would make Dakota laugh, but he just looked nervous.

“What can I do to help?” Dakota slipped his hand under Cavendish’s, coiling his fingers to make up for Cavendish’s lack of mobility.

“I just need a little time. The only thing that could speed this up would be blood.” Cavendish glanced at Dakota. “Human blood, not your blood.”

“Thanks for clarifying,” Dakota said sarcastically, “Okay, so I’ll get some blood. Do you think Drako would have some? If not, he’d know where to get some, yeah?” Dakota tried to get up, but Cavendish tightened his grip on his hand the best he could.

“Don’t…” He lost his confidence and looked away, speaking so quietly he was almost inaudible. “Don’t leave me alone…”

Dakota did not need to be told twice. He returned to his side instantly. “Okay, I’ll call Savannah, tell her to ask Drako, and then she-“

“You’re not supposed to know about him, you can’t tell her too,” Cavendish pleaded, still humiliated by the fact that he had told Dakota. That had not been his brightest moment.

“Okay.” Dakota relented. He paused. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“Stay with me?” Cavendish offered, with the hopeful tone of a little kid asking for an expensive toy who knew he didn’t have a shot but was asking nonetheless.

“I can do that.” He smiled at him warmly. “Do you want me to carry you somewhere else? We don’t have to stay on the floor.”

The thought of Dakota carrying him made him dizzy with fluttering feelings, so he tried to retort sharply, “Even if you could feasibly lift me, I’d rather not have your sweaty hands on my body.”

“You always accuse me of being sweaty, but I think anyone who can sweat seems sweaty to you. Just because you don’t…” Dakota trailed off. “...you don’t…do you piss?”

“You’re disgusting.” Cavendish told him in no vague terms. “Why are you so obsessed with my unmentionables?”

Dakota couldn’t suppress a laugh. He teased, “You had a different opinion about that last night. In fact, I do believe you said, and I quote,” he some exaggerated moans, “ _oh blimey Vinnie, please just touch my tiddlywonker already, oh crumpets, we can do it in the bathroom, just take my bloody virginity!_ ”

“It seems I wasn’t drunk but possessed.” Cavendish said dryly, trying to hide his embarrassment. “I’d smack you over the head if I could.”

“That’s not the only thing you wanted to smack-“

Cavendish started squeezing his hand and Dakota started thumping his other hand against the floor in surrender, wheezing, “Okay okay I get it I get it I give!” Dakota let out a sigh of relief when Cavendish stopped crushing his hand. He complained, “Jeez, why would anyone even need to be that strong?”

Cavendish was still flustered, and only knew how to cover that with meanness.“Have you met yourself? I’m going to find the opposite of a werewolf cure so you’ll be a puppy all the time. You’re so much more agreeable when you can’t talk.”

“Ouch,” Dakota laughed, then rested his head on his shoulder. “Is there any way to shut you up? No matter what form you’re in, you still find a way to insult me. Even as mist I bet you’d spell out a rude message for me.”

“I think once death failed to silence me, nothing else really stood a chance,” Cavendish concurred.

Dakota murmured affirmatively his mind wandering again. He looked down at their interlocked hands. He spoke softly, “Do you remember it?”

“What?” Cavendish asked, ditching the sharpness he used when they were verbally roughhousing.

“Dying,” Dakota clarified. “You kinda, uh, bring it up a lot.”

“Do I?” Cavendish focused on the warmth of Dakota’s hand. On the faint repetition of his pulse. One, two, one, two, one, two. He answered slowly, “Yes. I remember it.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Dakota’s ears twitched. Cavendish couldn’t refrain from leaning as far as his body would let him and kissing one of them. Dakota clearly wasn’t expecting that, and made a rather endearing little “mh!” sound.

“There’s not a lot to say.” Cavendish admitted. “What exactly did you want to know?”

Dakota was pressing against his shoulder, and Cavendish realized he was subconsciously protecting his neck. Specifically where Cavendish had bitten him. “Is it...did the bite kill you?”

“No, it doesn’t work quite like that,” for once, Cavendish did not condescend. “To become a vampire, they drink your blood, you drink theirs, and then they have to die. It doesn’t work without the permission of the vampire, though, so if someone were to force me into turning them, they’d just…”

“Right.” Dakota could connect the dots. “If you wanted it, would I be able to become a vampire? I know you said I couldn’t turn you, but does that go both ways?”

“I’d imagine you could be turned, but once you die you wouldn’t still have the werewolf curse. If I’m being honest, I don’t know for sure.” He looked down at Dakota. He couldn’t see his face from this angle. “And I never will, because I’d never do that to another person.”

“Do you hate it?” When Dakota didn’t get a response, he expanded, “Do you wish you weren’t a vampire?”

“I can’t remember being anything else, so I don’t have any measure of comparison.” Cavendish hummed. “I am glad I’ve existed long enough to meet you.”

“Me too.” He could hear the smile in his voice. “That’s such a sappy thing to say.”

“You can’t agree with it then turn around and call me sappy,” Cavendish huffed. “That’s not fair.”

Dakota wiggled closer so he could prop his chin up on Cavendish’s shoulder. “It’s not an insult. I love how squishy you are.”

Cavendish lifted his free arm awkwardly, without the dexterity to pinch Dakota’s cheeks, just kind of mashing his fingers against them. “You’re far squishier.”

Dakota laughed, mostly caused by getting his cheeks squished. “I walked into that one, huh?” Dakota grabbed his hand to stop the onslaught on his face, pretending to observe it very carefully. “Your movement is down, but how well can you feel?”

“My nerves are functioning properly.” Cavendish had no idea where this was going, but it was obvious Dakota had a devious plan.

“Then you can feel this?” Dakota kissed the tip of his pointer finger. 

Cavendish tried not to flinch, but the sensation tickled. “Y-yes.”

“How about this?” Dakota kissed his middle finger, making his way down. “Or this? Or th-fuck, I cut myself with your nail.”

“I take what I said earlier back, you _are_ the stupidest person in the whole world.” Cavendish acted annoyed, but he was smiling. It was very had not to smile when the love of your life was sitting beside you on the floor and kissing each of your fingertips.

“Hey, no takebacks!” Dakota spoke through a mouthful of giggles. “Or else I’m going to take back all the kisses I gave you!” 

Cavendish weighed the risks with an exaggerated expression and continued, “You haven’t even given me enough kisses for that to be worth the effort.”

Dakota pretended to be scandalized. “Are you suggesting I’ve been too stingy with the kisses?”

“That’s exactly wh-“ He was cut off by Dakota kissing him. It was almost unbelievable how much better his mouth tasted than his blood. And despite him faking the contrary with his teasing, Dakota was the farthest from withheld when it came to kissing. He bit experimentally at Cavendish’s lip, grinning into it when Cavendish let out an embarrassing moan, not completely unlike the mockery Dakota had made earlier.

Dakota lowered him so slowly that his back didn’t make a sound as he was sprawled across the floor. Dakota moved like a hungry predator, getting a knee on each side of Cavendish’s torso. One hand on the floor, the other tilting Cavendish’s face into the kiss.

“V-vinnie,” Cavendish gasped, pushing him away gently.

Dakota backed off immediately, sitting on his stomach. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no, it’s just…” he didn’t know how to put it. “I just wanted to ask you, what...what are we?”

“Well, you’re a dork on the floor, and I’m a cool guy sitting in your lap,” Dakota said with a little affirmative nod to himself. “I think that covers it?”

Cavendish closed his eyes as a stand in for shaking his head. “No, I meant...together. Not what are _you and I_ , but what are _we_.”

“Oh! Uh, I don’t know. What are we?” Dakota reached over and plucked the scarf from around his neck, which had still hung there loosely from last night. He started wrapping up his own arm in it.

“That’s what I’m asking you.” He spoke with the exasperation inspired by his anxiety. Even while they were having a good time, he was worrying over things like this. Labels never bothered him before; he quite liked them, they provided order to otherwise confusing things. But before they were identified, they could be very stressful. Especially when he cared so much about the subject matter they would describe.

“What would you like us to be?” Dakota gave him that silly crooked smile he seemed to love to blind Cavendish with.

Cavendish paused, considering this. He wasn’t expecting it to be up to him. The pressure of deciding upon something turned out to be too much. “I’m not entirely sure.”

“Then we don’t have to be anything,” Dakota said simply, as if any of this was simple. “If you think of something, we can be that. But for now we’re just us.”

“I hate how smart you are.” Cavendish grumbled.

“You know, you’re very good at giving compliments that sound like insults.” Dakota rolled off of him. “I’m gonna grab a snack, but I’ll keep screaming the whole time so you know I’m still in the house, and then we can get back to chillin’. Oh, and I could bring you back up to your room in case you get sleepy. It’s getting late for you.”

“Go get your food, but don’t scream. Your oppressive smell will remind me you’re still here. Go on.” Cavendish shooed him away verbally and watched him walk away. He found it was strangely comforting to see him leave and know he would be back. He was silly, but he was warm and alive and loving. More than that, he was warmth and life and love. And Cavendish didn’t ever want to lose that again.


	23. A Sheep In Wolf’s Clothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long, I wanted to plan out the next couple of chapters carefully. There is animal death, blood, a lot violence, and someone getting choked in this one, so read with discretion!

Cavendish recovered fine, just like he said he would. But Dakota did not stop staying through the day. Sometimes he hung around for a couple in a row, leaving for chunks of time so he could work or grab something from his apartment, but he didn’t stray for long. Neither of them commented on it.

“Dude, I know you’ve been feeding me on full moons.” Dakota walked into his room, sitting on his coffin like he owned the place. He didn’t bother trying to frame it like a question, because he knew Cavendish would just try to deny it.

He tried anyway. “I am not.”

Dakota gave him a look. Clearly he was not going to believe this. Cavendish conceded, “it’s not my fault! I was just trying to clean up when I found a bag of your chips, and you kept making this sad little sound at me until I gave it to you! You shouldn’t be trying to avoid eating anyway, the full moon is supposed to bring out your true cravings. The hunger of the soul.”

“I’d like to think my soul doesn’t hunger for cheetos.” Dakota wrinkled up his nose. “Is that why werewolves are supposed to be violent? Inherent bloodlust?”

“They’re not supposed to be, they are. You,” Cavendish pinched his cheek as he walked by, “are the exception.”

Dakota rubbed his cheek. “You make it sound like there’s something wrong with that.”

“Not at all. You should try to become a trendsetter. If all of your kind were lapdogs, it’d be so much simpler to deal with you.” They didn’t talk about the time Dakota woke up face down in Cavendish’s lap.

“Alright, well, I just wanted to ask you not to give me food this time. I feel so sick after all the transforming, you’re lucky I haven’t puked on your carpet ‘cause of it. _Yet_.” Dakota rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He had been looking more and more tired lately.

“On the topic of the moon, I’m going to be busy tomorrow night. You should stay at your own home.” Cavendish pretended to busy himself with arranging his clothes. He was a bad enough liar as it was, but it was harder to do it to Dakota’s face. It was imperative he didn’t let Dakota catch on this time. This was so much more important than everything else Dakota had ever found out.

“Whaaat?” Dakota complained. “You’re ditching me the night after the full moon? You never have anything going on! What is this new event that you like so much more than you like me?”

Cavendish folded the same shirt four times. He should make it six, six was a good number. Numbers divisible by three were good numbers. He kept his mind busy with that. “It's a surprise.”

“A lousy surprise,” Dakota grumbled, laying back too quickly and making a smack sound as his head hit the wood. “Hey, isn’t it kinda dangerous for vampires to sleep in wooden coffins?”

Internally, Cavendish sighed with relief. Bless Dakota and his easily distracted nature. “Have you ever seen a coffin made of anything else?” As Dakota thought about that, Cavendish put the shirt back in its place. Dakota would try to stop him if he knew, but he’d be happy in the end. Yes, no matter the cost, Cavendish would make sure Dakota was happy.

Even if he had to get a little blood on his hands to do it.

After the full moon Dakota had dragged himself home, mumbling about how Cavendish was a traitor a few more times before he finally left. He was mostly joking, and the most important thing was he hadn’t asked about Cavendish’s plans again.

Cavendish went up to the attic. The latch was always locked and there was no ladder, so it was the one place that no nosy children or Dakotas could get into. He didn’t come up there much himself. It was where he kept the memories he wished he didn’t have but couldn’t get rid of. In the back, in a small ornate box that had been gathering dust for who knows how long, was a loaded gun. The bullets weren’t steel, naturally. Those were a waste of time. There were less complicated ways to kill a human.

But to kill a werewolf with a silver bullet? It was a classic move.

He blew off the dust, he opened the box, he grabbed the gun. It was heavier than he remembered. His fingers automatically tightened as he relived the last time he had to use it. Wide golden eyes that would’ve gotten him if he didn’t get them first.

He didn’t like the way they reminded him of Dakota’s eyes.

But he wouldn’t be scared. Not this time. He left the manor, walking with a purpose. He hadn’t felt this kind of determination in a long time. He kept the gun out of sight, in case anyone was still out. He reached his second location for the night, knocking on the door.

The door opened, a red evening dress catching his eye. His eyes drifted up to meet hers, one covered by her bangs and the other dark with conflict. “Are you sure?” She asked him again. She knew his answer just by looking at his face. She thrusted the bottle in her hand towards him, pressing it against his chest. “He’s where I said he’d be.”

“Thank you Savannah,” he took the little bottle from her and pocketed it. Concentrated wolf’s bane, in case he couldn’t finish it in a shot. He didn't have the chance to get any with how close Dakota had been staying. But the closeness just gave him more conviction to get some. “If I tried to track him, he would’ve caught on immediately.” He tried to justify to himself putting her in danger. But she had volunteered to do this. They had been talking in secret for a few weeks now, making their plans. When he admitted he didn’t have any way of finding Brick, she insisted she’d follow him around the next time she saw him tailing Dakota. Dakota seemed to think nobody noticed that he was being hounded by him, but of course his best friend noticed the guy lurking around his place of work and even sometimes his apartment. She loved Dakota in her own way, and wanted to protect him just as much as Cavendish did. And she was safe now, which is all that really mattered.

“You’re repeating yourself, old man,” she flipped her hair out of her face. “Just do this right.” With that, she closed the door.

Their plan was almost foolproof. Werewolves were not only weakest after the full moon, but tended to scatter for a day. Cavendish didn’t want to kill more than he had to. On top of that, he wasn’t sure how many he actually could kill. He headed out past the playground and into the woods. Typical. It was like he wanted to be offed.

Cavendish was a hunter. He didn’t know how to be anything else. But this time his goal was not food or self defense. It was love. And he was better because of it. Sharper, more confident. Prepared to die for his cause, but more prepared to kill for it.

Brick was in a clearing only a few yards from the tree line, hunched over a deer carcass. Scenes like this served as a reminder that although Brick looked like a man, he was a beast. Through and through.

“I can smell you, vampire.” Brick growled, not moving from his dinner. “Are you really so desperate to die you're going to lay yourself before me?” He stood up, turning slowly to face him. His face was smeared with blood, and his mouth was open in a snarl. “You’re the one who kept me from saving Dakota.”

“Saving him?” His focus was slipping but he couldn’t stop. The anger inside him was boiling, and his own lips were twitching as his teeth begged him to let them tear his head off. “You’re what’s killing him.”

“Normally I’d ask you what happened that night, how you both came out of it alive and all that, but I’m not in a good mood today.” Brick cracked his neck. “Seeing your face made it even worse.”

Cavendish couldn’t back down now, even if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to. “If you die, does he get to be human again?”

He had said too much. He shouldn’t have been talking at all. Brick finally put all the clues together. His expression changed from disgust to a mocking cruelty, smile wide and ravenous. “Well that’s strange. Did the hare fall in love with the fox while I wasn’t looking?”

Cavendish pulled out the gun. Brick ran towards him. He shot, but Brick was on top of him in a moment, lunging for the throat. They fell to the ground, wrestling for the weapon. He was stronger than Dakota. Faster, too. Inhibitionless. There was deadly intent behind all of his movements.

The same was true for Cavendish. They were both fighting with their all, both full of untameable hatred for the other. And there was a kind of exhilaration that came with trying to kill the person you detested the most in the world. A desire for the fight to end immediately but also for it to last forever, because you might never feel passion this strong again. 

Cavendish tossed him off once, but Brick did not let go and dragged him a few feet in the other direction before they fell heavily back into the dirt. Cavendish got on top of him and one of them managed to fire the gun, shooting sideways into the trunk of a tree and frightening some birds. The sound distracted Cavendish for a millisecond, but that was Brick needed to get the gun in his hands. He grazed Cavendish’s arm, but Cavendish could barely feel it with the adrenaline coursing through him. He grabbed Brick’s arm, breaking it with the strength of his grip. Brick bit back a shout but could not keep a perfect grip on the gun.

Cavendish stole it back, aiming for the heart as quickly as he could. As his finger squeezed the trigger a yell caused him to get him in the shoulder instead. If he had just been an _inch_ closer-

He leapt from Brick and onto the source of the sound. It was a werewolf, he could smell it. He tackled it to the ground and his hands were around its neck before they even touched the ground. There were those golden eyes. Behind a pair of big, clunky sunglasses.

For the first time, Dakota looked afraid of him.

All the rage inside of him wilted instantly, and he released his grip and got off of him in a single movement. Dakota coughed, sitting up and scrambling a few feet backwards to give himself room to breathe. Cavendish had backed off immediately, but he still managed to seriously crush his windpipe. He was aiming to kill, after all. Horrified by his own actions and heart flooding with dread, he started to apologize frantically, “I didn’t know-“

“What the _fuck_ are you doing?” Dakota’s voice was hoarse after being strangled but the fear in it was still recognizable. It was mixed with hurt and anger and betrayal, but Cavendish could only hear the fear. He had shown Dakota the ugliest side of himself. He could no longer hide behind his own human face. It had always seeped through, like blood through cracked glass. His eyes weren’t human and his teeth weren’t human and his ears weren’t human. And he?

He was a monster.

Remembering what he was doing here in the first place, he twisted around to look at Brick. He was gone. He left a trail of blood from his wounded shoulder, and it was clear he had scampered away when he had his chance. Cavendish looked back to Dakota. “I was trying to help you! What are you doing here? I told you to stay home!”

“ _Help me?_ ” If it wasn’t for the mangled state of his throat, he would most likely be yelling. “I _was_ at home, but I heard fucking gunshots!”

Cavendish reached out for him, but Dakota flinched. He drew his hand back in. This night was not going how he hoped it would. He tried to explain himself, “I would never hurt you, Vinnie, I’m so sorry. I thought you were a different werewolf, I didn’t see you. I didn’t pay attention, I was fighting and I didn’t have time to think but if I knew I wouldn’t have touched you, I swear to god. I was just trying to kill Brick.”

That did not help Cavendish’s case. “Why would you do something like that? I thought you said you never wanted to _kill_ -“ Dakota fell into a coughing fit, losing a bit of his forceful tone, “why didn’t you tell me?” He was holding his neck gingerly now. It probably hurt to talk. But he was too upset to be quiet and just let himself heal.

Cavendish tried to calm him down. The last thing he wanted was for him to get hurt further. He tried to squeeze in his words as fast as he could, “I knew you wouldn’t understand. I knew you wouldn’t be able to do it or ask another person to do something like that. So I wa-“

“I don’t need you to make decisions for me! I’m not a child!” The raging sea of emotions in Dakota fell still for a moment. He slumped, staring at something Cavendish couldn’t see. “But I’ve been acting like one. Brick was right.”

“Vinnie,” Cavendish spoke warily, knowing he didn’t have to say what he was thinking for Dakota to know.

“You’ve just been pretending for me,” Dakota breathed, “And I woulda played along forever, ‘cause I’m just a big, stupid puppy.” He looked up at him, and the misery in his expression was so strong it felt like a kick to the chest. “You’re not a person.” It was an accusation. No, it was an admittance.

Cavendish was quiet for a moment. He looked down at his hands. His long pale fingers and nails like razors. Those weren’t a person’s hands. In his mind, he saw them around Dakota’s neck. “I’m not.”

Dakota started to cry. He sat there trembling, hands clutching his neck, choking out sob after sob. The image of lost innocence. “I woulda played with you forever, Balth…”

Cavendish stood up. He could feel his heart splintering in his chest. Each step was over burning coal. He picked up the gun that had been tossed aside so carelessly. When it was in his hands, he didn’t care what he would hit. What if Dakota had showed up a few seconds earlier?

He walked back over. He untied his cape and let it fall soundlessly onto the grass. The early autumn air chilled his neck. All these years and the bite still felt fresh. He knelt down, setting the gun a few feet away. He picked up the cape and moved slowly so Dakota wouldn’t jump. He placed it over his shoulders. His hands rested there for a moment before he pulled away. “I love you.”

He knew this wasn’t the time for a confession, and it certainly wasn’t how he had planned it. He had thought up all sorts of ways to do it, writing some of them out and practicing to himself. But he had to say it now, in case he didn’t get another chance. In case it was worth anything.

“Are you even capable of that?” Dakota did not look at him.

Cavendish swallowed. He laughed without any humor. “I guess I’m not entirely sure.” He took the gun and stood back up. He began to walk away but stopped for a moment. His voice was soft, “You should go home, Vinnie.”

And there was no possibility that home could be with him.


	24. True Colors

“And that’s not even the worst part-Savannah, that’s my other best friend, left me all these voicemails asking if it worked-“ Dakota paused to down his drink. It didn’t do him any favors, but he didn’t know how to handle his feelings other than stuffing something in his mouth. “Which means she was in on it too.”

“No!” The girl on his right gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. Her eyebrows seemed to disappear into her dark bangs, arranged expertly to frame her face.

“I know, right? I love the nails by the way, that is such a good purple for you. But yeah, they were working together behind my back because they didn’t think I could take care of myself. Treating me like a total idiot. Who does that?” Dakota sighed, his chest still heavy. “And I trusted them with my whole heart, and now I’ve got nobody.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, Vinnie,” the girl on his left patted his arm. “You’re a real swell guy, you just need to find someone who treats you right. Someone who doesn’t take advantage of how sweet you are.”

Dakota nodded solemnly. “That means a lot from you, Rosie, thank you. How have things been with Josh?”

“Same old, same old,” she shrugged. “Tried telling me that little red dress I love was too bold for daytime wear.”

“He’s intimidated by your confidence. He’s no good for you!” Dakota told her, and the other girl nodded.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her.”

“Victoria, you’re calling the kettle black,” Dakota turned to her. “Who here hasn’t told Danielle about her cat allergy?”

Victoria pouted. “That’s not nearly as bad. We’ll just have to get one of those hairless cats or something. How are you gonna handle Balthy being a wannabe murderer who gets your friends to go behind your back?”

“Touché.” Dakota refilled his glass and raised it up. “To shitty relationships.” The girls murmured in commiseration, clinking their glasses and drinking.

“We’re gonna have to kick you out soon, we’ll be opening in an hour.” Rosie told him apologetically. She grabbed the bottle from the table, using her free hand to push up her breasts. “Gotta get in uniform.”

Dakota stretched. “Yeah, I know. One is too early for a strip club. Do you even get any customers before five?”

“You’d be surprised.” Rosie sang as she walked back over to the bar. “You’re welcome to come back after we’re open, though. Would a lap dance cheer you up?”

When Dakota politely declined, Victoria said, “Well, it’s your day off, you should do something that’ll help you forget that whole mess.” She mussed his hair as she stood up. “Take a little ‘you’ time.”

“Thanks girls, it’s been lovely. Be honest with Danielle, if it’s meant to be you’ll be able to work something out. No cat means no cat, it’s not that bad. And Rosie, Josh is holding you back. You're a bright, confident young lady with a waist to hip ratio that could cause car crashes. The world is your oyster.” He pointed to each as he gave them his advice.

“Thanks,” Rosie giggled, wiggling her shoulders playfully.

“You’re a wonderful listener, Vinnie. Don’t be such a stranger!” Victoria followed Rosie to the counter, helping her get set up.

The door opened with a jingle, and a blonde girl came bouncing in. “Oh, hi Vinnie! It’s been a while! How’re things with Balthy?”

“Complicated.” He admitted with a small shrug. “But Angel, are those new shoes? They look comfortable.” 

“As comfortable as they’re going to get. If you ever need someone to kick his sorry ass, I’m here for you.” She offered him sympathetically. “You here to distract us from setting up?”

“Nah, I’m gonna go. I’ll see you soon, though, since you’ve got that art contest in the bag. Remember me when you’re the next Picasso.” He got up, giving her a friendly hug on his way to the door. As he closed the door behind him, squinting in the midday sun, he heard the tail end of their chattering. He smiled a little, glad that there were a few people out there who still liked him. He decided to take Victoria’s advice to heart and do something he liked.

So, he went to the zoo.

After a few hours of wandering around a little aimlessly, he settled on a bench eating dippin dots and throwing bits of a soft pretzel to the birds. You weren’t supposed to do that, but the workers who saw him decided it wasn’t worth telling him off. He was beginning to space out comfortably when he heard somebody shouting his name.

“Oh my gosh, what a coincidence!” Milo cheered as he approached, as if there were such a thing as coincidence in his life. Some of the birds scattered, but a few favored the pretzel over the threat of humans. A couple hopped closer to Dakota. “What are you doing here?”

“Chilling at the zoo, my dude,” Dakota gave him a high five once he was in range. Behind Milo was Zack and Melissa, and a taller boy Dakota didn’t know. “How ‘bout you guys?”

“We’re on a fieldtrip,” Zack told him. “We were supposed to be at the museum, but the bus broke down three times, and the street got flooded with marshmallow fluff, and the bus driver left at a pelican stole his hat, so our teachers decided we could just explore the zoo while they called the school board.”

“Sounds fun.” Dakota nodded. “You gonna introduce me to your friend?”

“Oh, this is Mort,” Melissa pushed him to the front of the group. He was staring at Dakota in awe.

“I’ve never seen an aura like that before,” Mort said, slack jawed. “It’s like he’s superhuman.”

Dakota laughed. “Nice to meet ya, Mort. You can call me Vinnie, and I’m-“

“He’s a werewolf!” Milo interrupted. “Sorry, I just got excited.”

“It’s cool.” Dakota assured him.

“You guys know a _werewolf_?” Mort was two seconds away from losing his mind. “That totally explains those vibes you guys have been giving off since the start of the year. Does Chad know?”

“Not yet, he doesn’t.” Melissa told him with a smirk. The two of them were still for a moment before they took off running, presumably both trying to tell Chad first. Watching them have fun lifted Dakota’s spirits a little. He was glad he went to the zoo at the right time to see them. 

“Wait, we’re supposed to stick together!” Zack called after them halfheartedly. He gave up and sat next to Dakota on the bench. “Whatever.”

“So, you like the zoo, Mr. Vinnie?” Milo asked sweetly.

“Hell yeah. I love seeing all the animals. Though I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about the wolves now. Like, they’re basically my people. Should I stage a jailbreak?” His ears twitched.

“Seems like a horrible, dangerous idea.” Zack told him honestly. “Plus, the zoo will notice if all their wolves went missing.”

Dakota conceded, “You’re right, we gotta start smaller. How about the tree frogs?”

“That’s a worse idea, they’re not indigenous to these parts and-“ Zack was cut off by a swarm of flamingo running free passed them. And dropped the rest of his reasons to end with a simple, “You really don’t have to do any jailbreaks when you’re with Milo.”

“Guess so.” Dakota grinned. He reached into his pocket, fishing out some cash. “Zack, could you buy us some dippin dots? I’d go, but after my twelfth cup this hour, the vendor has banned me from getting any more.”

“You’re going to die.” Zack took the money anyway.

“That’s what the vendor said too.” Dakota said, obviously unbothered by the thought of gorging himself to death on ice cream. Zack got up and went searching for a stand. Milo stole his seat. Dakota gave Milo some pretzel to throw to the birds. “You’ve got a good group of friends.”

“Yeah,” Milo smiled, “They’re the best.”

“You ever keep secrets from ‘em?” Dakota asked him.

Milo shrugged, focusing on tugging apart his pretzel. “I guess so. Everyone’s got secrets.”

“Yeah, I meant more like, secrets that would affect them. Not telling them stuff because you think they’d be better off not knowing.” Dakota leaned back. “‘Cause you think you know better than they do.”

“I don’t think you should hide stuff from people, even if they’d be happier not knowing. Like, when you’re going to go over a waterfall and they haven’t noticed yet. They have a right to know. Plus, then we can work together to get back to shore.” Milo accidentally hit a bird in the face with a bit of pretzel, but the bird didn’t seem to mind, quickly gobbling up the piece.

“You’re a smart kid, Milo.”

“Thanks, but it just comes from experience. I’m lucky to have gotten so much experience.” Lucky felt like a strong word for it, but Dakota didn’t push that.

Dakota realized he was out of pretzel, so he just rested his hands in his lap. “And what do you do about the person who was gonna let you go over that waterfall blind?”

Milo laughed, “Well, I’ll be happy we both survived. They’ll probably feel bad, so I’d make sure they know I’m not mad at them. Everyone makes mistakes. Then I just hope they learned for next time.”

“How do you forgive them if they were trying to drown you on purpose?” A bird hopped up onto Dakota’s leg, chirping at him. Milo was delighted by that and distracted from the question. Dakota smiled and carefully scooped up the bird, motioning for Milo to hold out his hand. Milo did, biting back his excitement as Dakota placed the bird down on in his palm.

“That’s amazing. You’re so good with animals.” Milo breathed quietly, not moving even an centimeter, so the bird wouldn’t fly. Milo glanced up at him. “What were you asking me?”

“Ah, it’s okay, I forgot.” Dakota lied. He watched as Milo giggled as the bird hopped around on his hand, asking him for more pretzels. His hand drifted up to his own neck. His eyes traced the scars etched deep into Milo’s pale face, all different sizes. His neck was bare. Dakota would like to keep it that way. “Hey, you guys bether not visit Balthazar for a while.”

“Why not?” Milo looked up at him again, and this time the bird flew off.

“He’s just been real busy lately. It’s hard to describe, but all you need to know is he hasn’t been able to hang out for weeks, and he can usually make time for me.” Dakota spoke in a ‘what can you do’ tone, masking the painful chasm in his chest with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Aw, okay. Tell us when he’s free again, we can throw him a party.” Milo smiled wide. He was the paragon of a good kid, which made it hard to lie to him. 

Dakota did not flinch. “Sounds great. I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Just when they needed a distraction, Melissa and Zack barreled towards them. “Melissa stole your money!” Zack tattled without hesitation.

“I did not and more importantly Mort and me found Chad but he was with Mr. Drako so now they’re all on their way back here and I ran back so I could warn you in case you wanted to bolt.” Melissa said it all in a single quick breath. She stopped to pant.

“Mr. Cavendish did say that Mr. Drako might not be the nicest to you.” Milo agreed, although it seemed like it hurt him to do so.

“I’ll be fine.” Dakota wrapped his arm around his shoulders and gave him a little squeeze. Mort showed up with a smaller kid, presumably Chad, and a grown man who did look very much like a vampire, especially with his black sun umbrella. Upon seeing Dakota, Chad fainted, and all the kids rushed over to him. Drako approached Dakota, his movements sweeping and elegant.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Drako held out a hand.

“Likewise.” Dakota stood up and shook it. “The kids told me about you, but I think Balthazar was able to paint a more accurate picture. Ooh, you guys really should invest in painters. They could show you what you look like, y’know, with the reflection thing.”

Drako laughed heartily. “Yes, that’s a very cute idea.” That felt patronizing. Dakota was suddenly unsure if the handshake was a normal friendly thing, or the sort of trick you’d try with your pet. Drako lowered his voice, “I’ve never actually met a werewolf before, not properly.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly the poster child,” Dakota said, still suspicious, “and I’ve never met a d-“

“Sit down.” Drako hissed, and Dakota obeyed without thinking. “Sorry, but you can’t just say that in a public place like this.”

Dakota had had a rough night. Betrayed by the two people he considered closest to him and physically assaulted by one of them. He had spent the better half of his morning crying, and was not in the best place mentally. So he found himself feeling defensive, and feeling very sick of that. “Listen, buddy,” he growled, “I’m sure you feel very high and mighty with that vampire blood running through your veins, but I’m not gonna be treated like a fucking dog by a guy in a cape.”

“I’m very sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, but please keep your voice down-“

Dakota stood back up. Drako was taller than he was, but he had no problem getting up close to him. “Tell me what to do, one more time. Make my day.”

Drako narrowed his eyes. “I can’t help but wonder how did someone like him ended up with a partner so unreasonable and vicious.”

That was the last straw. Dakota was ready to take out all his aggression on this schmuck, but over his shoulder he saw Milo helping his friend up into a sitting position. The kids were all laughing together and taking care of each other. He took a deep breath, and let it go. He just let it all go. “I think your first concern should be your students.” Dakota walked right past him. He stood by the group of kids. Milo still had his arms supportively around Chad, and the others were crouched around.  “Is Chad alright?”

“The werewolf knows my name,” Chad said, wide eyed, before passing out again.

“He’ll be fine. This happens a lot.” Melissa gave Dakota a thumbs up. “He’s got bad blood pressure, and he’s easily overwhelmed. He just needs some air.”

“Alright. I’m heading back to my place now, you guys have fun. Set some more animals free and that sort of thing.” Dakota waved to them. He got a little chorus of goodbyes in response. 

As he walked away, he ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the lingering little voice telling him there’s not a vampire in the world who’d respect him. Those thoughts weren’t like him. Somebody like Brick would have thoughts like that, not him. He caught his reflection in the gift shop window. Behind it was a shirt featuring a wolf much fiercer than he.

“Funny.” He said to himself, but he wasn’t laughing. 


	25. My Reflection

Dakota got home from work utterly fatigued. His body was still adjusting to his new sleep schedule, and his boss had been extra hard on him for the last couple of weeks for reasons unknown to Dakota. Maybe his dog had run away or something. Dakota would follow suit, but he needed the cash. He hoped he could just relax now that he was home.

But life had a funny way of kicking you in the nuts while you were down, so he couldn’t even have that. He realized halfway through his bowl of cereal that it was not cereal at all, and that he had poured water in a bowl of skittles. He couldn’t bring himself to care and continued to eat it. He was hungrier than ever these days, and non meat products just weren’t making the cut. He was too stubborn to go full carnivore. Not yet. He just wanted to last a little bit longer. He didn’t know why, or what satisfaction that could give him, but he kept pushing it anyway.

Someone was going to knock at the door, his suddenly tense body told him. He wasn’t expecting anyone. His head flashed through every possible option of who it could be, and he decided he didn’t want it to be any of them. “Little pig, little pig, let me in, or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll kill your goddamn neighbors.”

That was the worst option. Thanks, life.

Dakota put down his bowl and went over to the door. He unlocked it and opened it, looking up wearily at Brick. He hated that he was so lonely that Brick’s smell was almost welcoming. There was another smell. Blood. His shoulder wasn’t healed. Would it never heal or did it just take a long time? Dakota wondered where Brick had been bitten. Maybe he hadn’t been bitten at all. Dakota really didn’t understand anything about werewolves. “What do you want.”

“You didn’t make a fuss this time, are you warming up to me?” Brick walked past him and into his home. “Or have you just realized your horrid little boy toy's been itching to kill you?” He walked over to Dakota’s questionable meal, wrinkling his nose at the scent of it. He picked it up turned it over, spilling its contents onto the carpet. “Were you _eating_ this? You need some real protein.”

Dakota closed his door. Brick obviously had no plans of leaving anytime soon. He turned to face his unwelcome guest. “I know how to take care of myself, thanks.” His traitorous stomach growled.

Brick smiled at him condescendingly. It was like he was always trying to show as many teeth as possible. “I really do feel sorry for you, you poor thing. Nobody’s showing you how to handle your new body. It’s not your fault you’re stumbling around like a puppy. The closest thing you have to a friend is a vampire! Bet you tried to eat chocolate or something.”

Dakota did not respond to that one, but his flickering gaze said everything he didn’t. Brick laughed, “I thought I’d be mad at you, Dakota, and I was. In fact, I was so furious, if I hadn’t been injured, I would’ve grabbed that gun and shot the both of you.” Brick made a finger gun to demonstrate. “Because, wow, I thought I’ve seen some disgusting things in my life, but that demented mutilation of love he felt? It still makes me sick to my stomach, just thinking about it. But then I realized something. You know what I realized?”

Dakota thought the question was rhetorical, but Brick did not continue. Dakota sighed, “I don’t know what you realized.”

Brick stepped closer. Dakota instinctively stepped back, his back pressed against the wall before he even registered it. “It wasn’t your fault. You had to do what you had to in order to survive. And I take partial responsibility for that. I should’ve saved you.” Brick lifted his chin so he’d look at him.

Dakota pushed his hand away, slipping underneath his arm so he had more options than just cowering. “I don’t need saving.” As he walked away, Brick grabbed his tail. He didn’t pull it, but Dakota still found himself freezing in place.

“No, you’re right. You’ve made it this long just fine. You could probably live your whole life on your own, no matter what gets thrown at you. I mean, some vampire tries to turn you into a sex slave, and you end up wrapping him around your little finger.” It was funny, in a cruel way, that the only person who respected him was the one he could never consider a friend. “That glint in his eyes was repulsive, but I still admire you for being able to put it there. I could never stomach something like that. You don’t need saving, Dakota, but I think you’d like it. We’re social beings, after all. Pack animals.”

“I’m not like a vampire,” Dakota clutched the front of his shirt, turning the fabric above his chest into a tight ball of wrinkles. “And I’m not like a human, but I don’t think I’m like a werewolf either.” That was the bravest way of saying _I don’t know what I might like anymore. I don’t even know what I am._

“I know! They can’t squeeze you into any box.” Brick let go of his tail, moving so he was in front of him again. “You’re just you. It’s intoxicating.”

Dakota wasn’t sure he knew what love meant. He thought he knew it before, and he thought he gave it away generously enough. He loved Milo and Melissa and Zack. He loved the boys who’d talk to him on the train and the girls at the strip club and all the people at the park. He loved the drunk guy who cried on his shoulder and the person at the sandwich shop who messed up his order and made it up to him by throwing in a free cookie, even if he couldn’t have the chocolate chips. He loved the birds and the squirrels and even the bugs that had no concept of personal space. He loved Savannah. And he _loved_ Cavendish. He loved and he loved and he loved. He thought it was easy. He thought it was simple, like making mud out of water and dirt. It was starting to feel more like a hurricane. He asked bitterly, “Do you think you could ever love me, Brick?”

“I already do.” Brick tried to kiss him, but Dakota pulled away. A little part of him wanted to let Brick do it. It almost felt like payback, like he would be getting revenge on Cavendish as opposed to just hurting himself. If he was going to give out his love to anyone who’d hurt him, why not this guy too?

“Why’d you come here?” Dakota asked him.

“I told you. I’m going to save you. We’re not humans, and that’s a good thing. You should learn to be proud of that. Let’s escape this boring little town and do whatever we like.” He grabbed Dakota’s glasses without permission, lifting them off his face. Dakota flinched. “I wish you didn’t hide your eyes. They’re so beautiful.”

Brick was not looking into Dakota’s eyes but into his own, reflected in them. He didn’t know what love was, either. He had nothing he could teach Dakota. “Thanks, but I’m good where I am.” Dakota reached for his glasses, but Brick jerked them away, holding them above his head.

“I don’t think you understood. This isn’t an offer.” Brick was still smiling. The consequences of their game were becoming very real for Dakota, but Brick still had nothing to lose. “Aren’t you ready to ditch this sad little life? I think I’ve given you an impossibly long time to say goodbye. What’s holding you back? Is it that little boy with the hair that sticks up in the front?”

Dakota lunged for his glasses, but Brick used his shift in weight against him and pushed him down onto the couch. His shirt rode up his stomach, and the scar that Brick had left him with was visible to both of them. Dakota did not look at it. Brick pinned him down. His breath was hot on his face. “Who’s holding you back, Dakota? Who do you want me kill?”

Brick had played the game perfectly. Dakota’s hand was empty. The one card he had left was the joker, which only served to mock him. He should’ve been carefuller, it laughed at him, he should’ve been wiser, he should’ve been anything other than what he was. “No one.” He was exhausted and terrified and out of options, so his body betrayed him once more, and he started to cry. “I’m alone. I’m terribly alone.”

“Not anymore.”

Cavendish was not a human being. He knew that. And yet, he hurt like one.

Dakota’s words occupied his every waking moment. Which were a lot more moments than before, seeing as he could no longer eat or sleep. Not even his piano could bring him peace. Every melody he tried just reminded him of all the silly songs Dakota would make up. No matter what he did, it felt like Dakota was there. But there was no longer warmth in that thought. There was no warmth in his life at all. Is this how he felt when he could no longer step out into the sun’s light? He couldn’t remember the sun. He could remember Dakota. So that’s what hurt.

“I warned you!” He pointed an accusatory finger at his lack of reflection in his bathroom mirror. He tried to sound angry. He felt too tired to be angry. “If you let them treat you like a human, you’ll start believing you are one. Then you have to die all over again. You broke his heart, you broke your own heart, because you’re a selfish coward who’d rather make friends just so they can mourn you than do what you’re supposed to do!” He touched the glass. Mirrors had never bothered him before. But he wanted to see himself, he wanted to see his fingers on the other side of it. Dakota had taught him how to want things again. No, he never forgot how to do that. Dakota had just given him permission to want things again. “You’re a lousy vampire, and a lousier friend.”

The motivational speech thing wasn’t exactly working out for him. But nothing was, so he continued to berate himself for a while. “I bet you want to go say you’re sorry. You want to lie to him, don’t you? Tell him you know love and that you’re some misunderstood creature. You’re-you’re like an angler fish! Showing him your tiny bit of light so he doesn’t notice your teeth. Lure him back in only for him to suffer all over again because you can’t accept the fact that you’ll never be human again!” He punched the mirror. He didn’t mean to do that. He didn’t mean to say that, either. It just sort of slipped out.

Maybe he wasn’t capable of love after all. Maybe he was just jealous of Dakota. He was his window to the world Cavendish had all but forgotten. The world he belittled but missed so intensely that he was glad he didn’t have to see his own face, or else be reminded that he was not welcome there anymore. Cavendish had clung to Dakota, leeching his happiness and humanity. He didn’t need to be able to drink his blood to drain him and offer him nothing in return. He was a parasite.

He brushed the glass from his knuckles. It didn’t hurt, not like it was supposed to. He wished it did. He’d have to clean it up later. If he was lucky, it would provide a distraction. But luck was never on his side, and he could not shake the thoughts of Dakota. 


	26. Caged Birds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for a little bit of blood and some violence! Very excited for these next couple of chapters!! Thank you for reading and leaving kudos and comments!

“I’m just saying that if you don’t know where the frogs-step left, broken pipe-came from, it’s entirely possible they’re from Kentucky,” Milo reasoned as he and his friends walked out of the school. The initial rush of kids desperate to leave the moment the bell rang were already gone, so the walk was a little more relaxing. As relaxing as a walk with Milo could be.

“And _I’m_ saying I feel like that’s a stretch,” Zack hopped over a hole in the tiles. “They could be from anywhere, so why Kentucky?” A broken shard of locker came flying their way, slicing Milo’s cheek as he dodged. Zack secondhand cringed for his friend, “Ooh, you alright?”

“Yep, I’ll patch it up in a second,” Milo smiled. He was bleeding, but just a little bit. He was more than prepared for a little cut.

Melissa pulled out her headphones for just a moment. “Back to frogs, do you think if they were big enough, they’d eat people? They are carnivorous.” As they stepped outside, she spotted something and ran off. Milo and Zack followed, quickly seeing what she did. “Hey, Vinnie!”

Dakota was standing with a man they had never seen before. He must’ve been a werewolf, due to the physical traits they had in common. They didn’t know he knew any other werewolves. Dakota was standing a few feet away from him, which was odd. Dakota rarely gave anyone personal space. They had been discussing something quietly, glancing up at the kids when they heard Melissa shouting. The man’s lips twitched into what had to be a smile. “Vinnie? Is that you?”

Dakota did not smile back. “Yeah, that’s me.” He waved stiffly to the kids as they approached. He didn’t try to hug or high five them. “Yo.”

“Mr. Vinnie, do you think a werefrog would be big enough to eat a person?” Milo asked, as if that were a normal conversation starter.

“Wow, werefrog. Guess a werewolf was not the worst option.” Dakota joked, but his voice sounded a little hollow. If the mental image of a man eating frog couldn’t make him so much as chuckle, then something was definitely wrong.

“Who’s your friend?” Zack asked. He had casually put an arm in front of Milo to dissuade him from getting closer. He felt like something was off. Milo didn’t seem to notice. 

“I’m Brick,” the werewolf cut in. “And your names?”

Before they could respond, Dakota spoke, “You know what, we were in the middle of something here, so you guys should scurry home.”

“Yeah, we’ve got homework,” Zack grabbed Melissa’s arm, trying to usher both of them away inconspicuously.

“But we need to make sure you’re not holding this guy against his will!” Melissa teased. “There’s no way you could actually make a friend your own age.”

“Hey, wait a minute, I’ve seen this guy before!” Milo stepped closer and out of Zack’s grasp. “We met at the store, right? All those cans fell on you.”

“You’re bleeding.” Brick stared at Milo’s cheek. He reached a hand out, but Dakota grabbed his wrist suddenly.

“Don’t touch him.”

Brick looked surprised at first, then he laughed, retracting his hand. “You forgetting who’s in charge, Vinnie?”

“You promised,” Dakota standing his ground but staring at the grass, like he was afraid of making eye contact. Zack slowly reached into Milo’s backpack as the exchange took place, careful not to make a sound. He sent a glance Melissa’s way, who nodded slightly. 

“I haven’t broken my half of the deal! I’m not the one who cut his sweet little face. Are you gonna need a shorter leash?” Brick pinched Dakota’s cheek. “How about we get you something cute? I’ll let the kids decide. Should I get orange to match his tracksuit, or pink because it’ll go so nice with his fur?”

“I don’t, uh, I don’t think you should be putting your hands on him,” Zack spoke slow at first, buying him time until he found what he wanted. He pulled out the smoke bomb victoriously and set it off. Brick cursed in surprise and let go of Dakota. Melissa grabbed Dakota’s hand and took off running. Zack and Milo hurried after them, leaving Brick in the cloud of smoke.

“Woah, woah, what’s going on?” Dakota did not make them stop running. The threat they felt was real. 

“Getting you away from that creep, duh,” Melissa tightened her grip on his hand.

“How’d he end up trapping you, anyway?” Milo asked, face etched with worry. He was too quick to trust, and was the last of his friends to realize something wasn’t right.

“Okay, calm down,” Dakota slowed to a stop, stopping Melissa as well. The other two paused with them, confused but thankful for the break. “I’m not trapped. You kiddos are real good hearted to worry, but you can’t just jump to conclusions and smoke bomb people. I’ll apologize to Brick, you get home. And...stay home. Just for tonight. Don’t go outside.”

“Do you think we’re stupid or something?” Melissa frowned at him. “I thought you were cool, man. Don’t treat us like brats.”

“I’m not-I just-,” Dakota sighed in defeat. “Okay, I’m sorry. You guys are clever, talented kids, and a lot better than most adults I know. I shouldn’t condescend. I’m in a bit of trouble right now, but I swear on my life I’ve got things under control. I’m putting a lot of trust in all three of you right now by asking you to not interfere.”

“What kind of trouble?” Zack crossed his arms over his chest uncomfortably.

Dakota held his thumb and forefinger close together. “Just a little. I can’t explain it, I don’t have time. I need you guys to just trust me.”

“Is it the same trouble Mr. Cavendish is in?” Milo piped up. “I-if you’re telling us the truth, tell us the whole truth.”

“He’s-he’s not in any danger. But if you visit him, you might be.” Dakota glanced over his shoulder, his ears twitching, listening to something the kids could not. “Shit. Alright, I gotta go. You have to go too. Please, please stay safe.” He pulled them all into one big, rib crushing hug.

“If you get yourself hurt, I’m gonna kick your butt.” Melissa whispered, not sounding as brave as she hoped she would.

“I know.” Dakota smiled, giving them one last squeeze before taking off in the direction they had been running from. Milo began walking away from his street.

“Uh, Milo? We’re under orders to go home,” Zack reminded him.

Milo did not stop. “I’m going to go see Mr. Cavendish. Mr. Vinnie asked us to stay out of it because he doesn’t want us to get hurt, but he can’t handle this on his own. He was scared. We need to tell him.”

“Why wouldn’t they already be working together?” Melissa asked, but she was walking with Milo. Those two were ride or die and had been that way since the first grade. If Milo jumped off a cliff, Melissa had probably jumped first. Zack rolled his eyes and joined them, knowing they’d need a voice of reason to prevent them from doing anything too stupid.

“I think they’re having a fight. But when he knows that Mr. Vinnie’s in danger, I know he’ll realize this is more important.” Milo told them confidently. They arrived at his house hours before the sun would go down, and the door was locked. They quietly prayed they’d be able to wake him up. Milo knocked on the door, shouting, “MR. CAVENDISH PLEASE OPEN UP!”

Zack joined in on the yelling, “CAVENDISH! CAVENDISH! LET US IN!” They shouted and banged on the door for a minute until Melissa motioned for them to stop.

“I got this,” she gave them a thumbs up, then cupped a hand over her mouth. “CAVENDISH, OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!”

“I thought you didn’t swear without permission?” An uncertain voice came from behind the door.

“He was listening the whole time?” Zack was shocked, and a little offended that he just let them scream for a while.

“Normally, yeah, but this is an emergency!” Melissa callied back, ignoring Zack. There was no response.

Then they heard the click of the lock, and breathed a collective sigh of relief. “Open it carefully, as I doubt I can help your emergency as a pile of ash,” Cavendish said. Melissa opened the door just a crack so they could squeeze in, quickly shutting it behind them. Cavendish stood on the other side of the door, using it as a barrier from the sun’s rays. “Milo, is your face alright?”

“Oh, it’s just a little cut,” Milo assured him. Zack elbowed him, silently reminding him that he was in a vampire’s house and it was rude to be tempting him with blood. Milo whipped off his backpack and went searching for a bandaid.

“ _I wouldn’t drink a child’s blood_ ,” Cavendish muttered indignantly, but there were more important things to discuss. “So what’s the emergency?”

“Vinnie is in danger. There’s this other werewolf, his name is...uh…” Melissa glanced at the others for help. She had always been terrible with names. “Plaster?”

“Brick.” Zack corrected her. “Close, I guess? You build stuff with both.”

“What did he do to him?” There was that protectiveness they were counting on.

“Do you know him?” Zack asked, but read the mood and decided that his question could wait. “Vinnie’s fine, for now. But something’s going on, they’ve made some kind of weird deal and when we tried to rescue him, he just went back.”

Cavendish’s sense of urgency faded, his shoulders slumping. “It’s none of our business, then. He’s allowed to make his own decisions. He can keep whatever company he likes.”

Milo slipped his backpack back on, a ducky momo brand bandaid over his cheek. “I told you guys. They’re having a lover’s quarrel.”

“It’s not like that!” Cavendish sputtered. Even his embarrassment disappeared quicker than usual. He wrung his hands together, eyes cast down. “It’s...he doesn’t feel that way about me. It’s unrequited.”

Melissa was having none of this. She walked closer, stomping on Cavendish’s foot so he’d double over and be eye level with her. “Do you care about him?”

He blinked. “O-of course.” He spoke meekly. It was a little comical, watching this grown vampire cower before a middle school girl. But this was the reality they had grown used to. 

“Then pull yourself together and get him out of this mess.” Melissa folded her arms over her chest. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but right now, he needs you. Do I have permission to call you a little bitch?”

Cavendish nodded. “I deserve it.”

“Okay, stop being a little bitch and go protect your man.” She grinned a little.

Cavendish straightened back up, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. “Alright, at sundown, I’ll go check on him. That’s all.”

“Good start.” She fist bumped him. “What are we doing until then?”

Cavendish began pacing. “Call your parents, I’ll do an old protection spell over the foyer and you three can stay the night. As long as you’re in that room, no lycanthrope will be able to smell you. It’s not perfect, but it’ll keep you safe while I’m out. I’ve got leftover backup sleeping bags from last time, so don’t worry about that.” He stopped pacing, remembering the most important thing he had to say, “But no further interference out of any of you. Understood?”

“Crystal clear!” Milo chirped.

“That only works if he says ‘am I clear,’” Zack gave Milo a look. As Cavendish walked away, they huddled together. Zack whispered, “Okay, we’re _totally_ interfering more, right?”

“I assumed that was a given.” Melissa agreed.

Milo nodded along. “Let’s get these poor lovebirds back into the safety of the other’s arms.”

“Birds don’t have arms.”

Cavendish was not sure of anything at the moment. But he was most unsure of which direction he was going, on a physical level. He had no idea where the werewolves would be. Even if he found their pack, there was no guarantee Dakota was with them. He sighed. This was a ridiculous plan. He didn’t know why he agreed to it. He’d turn back, but there was that sludge of dread weighing his heart down that he knew wouldn’t disappear until he knew Dakota was safe. He hoped Dakota wouldn’t see him. Or if he did see him, he wouldn’t be too angry about it.

Cavendish walked to the playground where they had first met Brick. It stunk of wolves, but he couldn’t tell how fresh it was. As he was tackled to the ground by three men, he decided it was very fresh.

The hands holding his wrists against his back were wet, and seared his skin. He didn’t give them the pleasure of a grunt, but he couldn’t hold back a wince.

“Not a fan of holy water, huh?” The guy on top of him sneered. This wasn’t good. Under normal circumstances, he’d be able to take three on, but they were expecting him. He was underprepared. With the holy water still melting through his skin, he wouldn’t even be able to transform. “Don’t worry, we’ve got worse in store for you.”

“I bet this is turning the crossbreeder on. You’re a real sicko, even for a bloodsucker.” The one on his left taunted. “No wonder Brick’s little slut is so fucked up.”

“Don’t talk about him like that.” Cavendish hissed, and they pressed him harder into the pavement.

“Brick wasn’t kidding!” The one who had remained silent this long cackled. “It really does have a hard on for him! That’s sickening!”

“If only it killed you when your mama dropped you on your head!” The one to his left stuck a stake through his palm, and he cried out involuntarily. They were a fan of that, bursting into cruel laughter. If they could waste their shots just to torture him, then they were clearly in no hurry to finish him off. He didn’t know if that was a blessing or not. Maybe it’d give him the chance to see Dakota one more time.

There was a deep unearthly growl coming from his right, but he was facing the other way, so he didn’t know what was making the sound. It only lasted a second, however, and suddenly all three werewolves were no longer on top of him. He heard their screams, but all he saw was a gigantic dark blur. Even if it’s intention was not to save him, it still saved him, so he was grateful. He tried to focus on it through his pain and figure out what exactly his savior _was_. 

There, attacking his aggressors, was a huge brown wolf.


	27. Judgement Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for violence, blood, and character death!

It was not a full moon. Even if Cavendish were to assume he had made the fatal error of losing track of the moon cycles, the werewolves who had been pinning him down were still in human form. So this wolf had to be a normal wolf. That was the only logical conclusion.

Except this was very clearly not a normal wolf. For one thing, it was much larger than a person, around the size of a grizzly bear. And it was fast and strong enough to hold its own against three werewolves. No, more than hold its own, it was creaming them. Cavendish sat up slowly, staring in confused awe as it shook the man who had stabbed him like a chew toy until he was sent flying a few yards into a tree.

Cavendish tried to pull the stake out of his hand. He bit his lip so hard it should've drawn blood, but managed to get it out. He set it down on the pavement, letting out a relieved sigh. His wrists still stung and there was still a gaping hole in his palm, but it was a major improvement compared to where he was a moment ago. So occupied with his own pain, he didn't realize the wolf was done fighting. Despite its impressive size, it moved with grace, coming to stand in front of him. Cavendish flinched, expecting to be pounced, but it moved no closer. It stared at him with golden eyes. He stared back.

“Uh, hi,” Cavendish breathed. Remembering his manners, he spoke nervously, “thank you, uh, for that.” He motioned to the werewolves scattered around, all unconscious. “I'm guessing you didn't do it for me, but it was still nice?” He slapped himself internally. It was _nice_? He was really showing off his talent for wordsmithing.

The wolf leaned its head down, and Cavendish thought for a split second it was going to talk to him. Or bite his head off. It did neither of those things. Instead, it licked his whole face with its giant, slobbering tongue.

“Ew.” Cavendish didn't mean to say it, but he did. He tried to wipe the spit off his face. The wolf’s tail was swishing behind it. “Please don't do that again.”

Before the wolf did anything at all, someone behind Cavendish shouted, “Get off of him!” He twisted around to see Savannah fast approaching. This was the first time Cavendish saw her in pants and no heels. She meant business, and very different business than she usually did.

The wolf growled, but Cavendish tried to calm it down, “No, no, it's okay, she's not going to hurt you,” he yelled back to her, “Th-this one’s not our enemy!”

Savannah slowed to a stop, still glaring at the wolf. Behind her was Drako, who was muttering in confusion, “Why is he transformed? It's not a full moon.”

“What are you two doing here?” Cavendish tried to stand, but the wolf was looming protectively over him, so he wasn't able to do that without risking kicking it, which was on the bottom of his to do list.

“I went to Vinnie’s apartment since he hasn’t been answering his phone, but the door was unlocked and his place was trashed. I figured the regular police couldn't help, so I went to your house. You weren't there, but this sop was.” She jerked a thumb at Drako.

“Well, Milo, Melissa and Zack called me. They were hoping I could use my ‘vampire powers’ to help,” he used air quotes, “and they sounded so urgent. I told them I’d do what I could. Your mate doesn't seem to like me very much, but I couldn't let you go into a wolf den by yourself. It's suicide.”

“We’re not mates.” Cavendish halfheartedly corrected him. He didn’t know Drako and Dakota had met. He didn’t think it was possible for Dakota to not like someone. Maybe he really didn’t know anything about him.

“Could’ve fooled me. Well, whatever, we came prepared,” Savannah lifted her fists, showing off the silver rings and necklaces she had wrapped around her knuckles. They would pack a painful punch, that was for sure. “So now you talk. What's up with the big dog?”

“I-” he glanced at the wolf, trying to figure it out. It continued to watch him. Its very existence was unexplainable. Some kind of wonderful oddity. “I have no idea. But it saved my life.”

“And where's Vinnie?” She walked closer, keeping her eye on the wolf, rightfully suspicious. She pulled Cavendish out from under it by the shoulders, helping him up to his feet. The wolf did not stop them.

“I don't know that either,” Cavendish sighed. “I wasn’t planning on fighting anyone. The kids thought he was in danger, so I came to make sure he was alright, but that was it. I’m so stupid,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “What if Vinnie is in danger? It didn’t sound like he was, but when am I ever correct? I didn’t bring anything to defend either of us with.”

Drako stepped closer, pulling something out of his jacket pocket. It was small and covered with a thin cloth. “I’m not a fighter, nor is this my fight. I can’t risk being caught by a pack of werewolves. But I _can_ give you this. It’s a silver knife, recently doused in wolfsbane. A souvenir of when my parents met.” He paused, his heart somewhere else for a moment. “I hope you can find your happy ending like they did.” He handed it to Cavendish, who accepted it gratefully. “If you all survive this, tell Dakota I’m sorry for any misunderstandings between us, and that I’d be honored if he would give me a second chance.”

They watched Drako walk away. Savannah pounded her fists together. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m sick of getting sidelined. He might be your boyfriend, but he’s my best friend. If you try to send me away, I’ll punch you with these.”

“Noted,” Cavendish nodded, hoping Dakota wouldn’t mind her being in possible danger. The wolf abruptly turned around, and ran into the wooded area behind the playground. Cavendish sprinted after it, and Savannah tried to keep up.

“You’re just going to follow it?!” She yelled, obviously not fond of his plan.

“Yes, yes I am! I don’t know why, but I feel like I can trust it!” Cavendish hurried back to her, “Do you mind if I-?”

“Just do it!” She grunted, aggravated by many things, including but not limited to: they were following a giant wolf for no reason, they were losing the giant wolf, and she was the slowest one there. Cavendish lifted her up bridal style, a little awkwardly, and went back to running. The extra weight did nothing to slow him down. She tried not to touch him, lest she burn him with all the silver.

Cavendish skid to a stop before following the wolf into a clearing, and he was thankful he did, since there was the rest of the pack, including Brick. There were seven of them. But no Dakota. Where was Dakota? Cavendish pushed thoughts of the worst from his mind. He didn’t have time to stress.

Brick approached the wolf, unable to hide how impressed he was. He placed his hands on either side of its face. “Incredible! I’ve heard stories of well trained werewolves being able to transform at will, but you figured out how to do it in a year! You never fail to amaze, Vinnie.”

“No fucking way,” Savannah breathed. Cavendish was struck speechless. That monstrous thing couldn’t be Dakota. It was impossible. But then, Dakota himself was impossible.

“What triggered it?” Brick paused, but Dakota didn’t respond. Which seemed natural, but Brick was disappointed. “I guess expecting you to have perfected it is a little much, even for you. Janet, do you think he’ll turn back at sunrise or in twelve hours?”

“Sunrise,” A female werewolf responded confidently, examining her nails. “I don’t get what’s so special about him. It was probably an accident.”

A few snickers erupted from the group, until Brick spoke lowly, “If it's that simple, what’s your excuse for not figuring it out yet? I like you, Janet. So I’ll give you a second chance. Bad talk our new friend one more time and I’ll rip your intestines out between your teeth.” The girl shut up, taking his threat seriously. Brick ran his hand from the wolf’s- _Dakota’s_ , from Dakota’s-jaw to his right eye. “Never got around to punishing him for insubordination earlier. Who thinks he should lose an eye?”

He received savage cheers in response. “Kill the bastard,” Savannah hissed to Cavendish, shoving her way out of his arms. “I’ll distract the others.” Before Cavendish could stop her, she had jumped over the brush and punched the closest werewolf in the face. Another one grabbed her by under her arms, trying to drag her off of them. It wasn’t like the rage he felt gave him the chance to tell her to desist. He barely felt like a conscious being. He was anger, seething and red. He ran at Brick, fighting off that girl who had spoken up, Janet, who leapt at him instinctively.

“Paws off, I want first bite of the bloodsucker,” Brick growled, eyes glowing in the low light of the stars, “It’s almost nice to see your revolting face, vampire. I’m gonna tear you to pieces for the bullet wound.”

Cavendish did not speak. He had forgotten how. There was his most hated foe, almost begging Cavendish to stab him. And he would be more than satisfied to comply. Savannah headbutted the chin of the werewolf holding her back, throwing punches at anyone near her.

“Get the human under control,” Brick ordered them, and lunged at Cavendish. He was intercepted by Dakota. Brick shouted, “and grab this idiot before I do something I regret!” All the werewolves fought off Dakota, and Savannah chased after to defend him. They ended up pouring out of the clearing and into the trees. Cavendish tackled him to the ground.

But Brick would not stay down. He rolled them so he was on top, not hesitating before punching him in the face repeatedly. He was vicious. “You’re gonna regret ever crawling out of the grave when I’m through with you!”

Cavendish had his hands around Brick’s neck. Brick made a sound resembling a whimper, and the tension on Cavendish’s face almost vanished completely. What was he doing? Why was he letting his fangs tell him what to do?

He thought about Dakota. Dakota who practically lived on his couch, who didn’t fear him or hate him because of the way he looked. Dakota who cried at happy endings and didn’t think someone like Brick deserved a death sentence. He thought about little puppy Dakota. Too friendly and forgiving for his own good. He had thought that form was ridiculous, and that Dakota was simply too afraid to be anything stronger. But he wasn’t the one who was scared. Cavendish was.

Cavendish’s blood stopped simmering. He let go of Brick, taking another hit to the face. “Stop,” he breathed. “This isn’t right.”

Brick grinned wickedly. In his eyes, Cavendish saw himself. Hateful and prideful and so very afraid. “Rolling over already? You deserve to die like a worm!”

Cavendish pushed him off, joining him on his feet. “I’m not going to fight you. I have spent enough of this miserable existence letting hatred control me.” It was about time he learned something new. _Love_ , he thought, _love sounds nice right about now_. Maybe Dakota could teach him what that really meant.

Brick ran at him again, and Cavendish deflected his blows. It was almost funny. Brick wasn’t a good fighter, and he could see that now. He was strong, yes, and relentless, but there was no skill or thought behind his movements. Just irrational anger.

“I know you, Brick.” Cavendish started.

“I don’t want my name on your tongue,” Brick snarled. “You’re scum among scum! Not even another vampire would listen to you!”

Cavendish did not stop. He had to try. “We’re the same. Losing ourselves to rage because we’re weak and we’re scared. Scared of you, scared of me, but most of all, scared of losing him.”

“He was never yours to lose!” Brick rushed him, grinding his teeth as Cavendish caught his arms again.

“I know,” Cavendish couldn’t help but laugh a little. He pulled the knife from his pocket, ready to toss it to the ground in surrender. “But he isn’t yours, either.”

Brick snapped. He yanked his own shirt down over his bicep, revealing the still recovering wound in his shoulder. Without warning he thrusted two fingers into it, reopening it. His breathing was ragged and his face was twisted, but he was still smiling, gritting through the pain as he dug around. Cavendish was too horrified to move. He didn’t understand what was happening nor did he want to.

He dragged his fingers back out with an upsetting slurp sound, now dripping with blood. He gasped, partially from the pain but partially with euphoria. He stuffed his fingers into Cavendish’s mouth, forcing him to ingest it, and Cavendish’s whole body seized up, hand doing the opposite of what he wanted and tightening around the knife. He fell back onto the ground with a thud, unable to move. It had only been a taste of blood, and he would not be down for more than a few minutes. But that would be enough.

Brick laughed. It started quiet, but grew into something wild. It was almost a howl. “I’m going to enjoy this! How dead do you have to be to turn to ash? I want to make this _last_.” He pounced, hands up and ready to claw his chest into ribbons.

And then he fell on the knife.

The knife was buried in his side. Brick’s eyes went wide, visibly searching for a solution as the wolfsbane entered his bloodstream. He spat blood onto Cavendish’s shirt, but that was his final offense. His eyes faded from gold to brown, and his inhuman features disappeared. The curse was rectified when you died.

Just like that, it was over. Cavendish could not look away from his corpse, quite literally. They just laid there in silence, the night continuing indiscriminately without them. A peacefully gruesome scene.

Janet stumbled back into the clearing. She looked the same, no physical changes. The death of the alpha reverting the others must’ve been a rumor. Her expression changed from confusion to glee. “HE’S DEAD!” She cheered. “BRICK IS DEAD!” The other werewolves ran to her to confirm this, some looking more bruised and bloody than others. She motioned the way they came, “The reign of terror is over, forget that freak, let’s get the others and find our new alpha.”

They left in the direction of the park, howling and whooping and ignoring Cavendish altogether. He wondered if they thought he was dead, too. He looked rather dead. Savannah came back too, leaning against Dakota, who was still on all fours. She was roughed up, but still kicking. Most of her silver was gone. “Oh my god,” she blanched when she saw them. She pushed off of Dakota and ran to Cavendish’s side, heaving Brick off of him. His body fell limply onto the grass. His presence had been altered impossibly, from a threat to barely a nuisance. It seemed strange to Cavendish, but he supposed that was not the biggest change Brick had gone through.  “No, no, you can’t be dead. Not after all of this.”

Dakota licked his face again. He prowled around them and got on top of Cavendish, as if he were still a lap dog. He crushed his stomach, whining at him. “You weigh a ton,” Cavendish finally complained hoarsely, and Savannah sighed with relief.

They worked together to push Dakota off of him, who was wagging his tail furiously. Cavendish rolled Brick over so he was face up and closed his eyes. He didn’t know what he was feeling. Maybe it was sorrow, or just plain pity. “No more bad blood,” he spoke softly. “Find your peace.” And he meant it.

“Vinnie,” He stood up, looking at Dakota with a fondness he didn’t want to hide. He stroked his head with slow and soothing movements. “I don’t deserve you. I know that. But I love you. And I didn’t even know I could do that anymore. I thought I had forgotten how. But I love you, and I can’t make myself stop. If you will have me, I will spend every minute trying to be someone you won’t be ashamed of.”

“That’s sweet,” Savannah interrupted their moment, “but you’re talking to a dog. Save it for the Vinnie we know and love.” Her joking tone faded as she took in his face. “Are you crying?”

“Yes,” Cavendish laughed through his tears. His heart was light. He wrapped his arms around Dakota’s neck, hugging him tightly and never wanting to let him go. He buried himself in his fur. There was that smell. That warmth. He was home. “Yes, I believe I am.” 


	28. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking through this wild ride with me! I’ve never written anything this enormous before, and I hope that you liked it because I really, really liked writing it!!

“Okay Balth, can you see okay?” Dakota asked, jostling his phone camera in his excitement.

“I can see your thumb,” Cavendish responded dryly. He still couldn’t believe Dakota had gotten him a phone. His birthday gifts just kept getting increasingly ridiculous. It was nice to be connected to the others while it was daytime, but some functions of it were bizarre to him. What was the point of this FaceTime if they wouldn’t be able to see his face? But Dakota had wanted him ‘there,’ one way or another. The kids had begged him for it too. He swore sometimes their puppy dog eyes were worse than Dakota’s.

It was nearing two years since Brick died. Cavendish remembered the exact date, and wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forget it. But the aftermath of it was surprisingly uneventful. The werewolves had vanished back to wherever they came from, struggling with internal affairs, leaving only one werewolf in town. A werewolf who’s softness turned out to be stubbornness when he refused to turn cruel after all that trauma.

Once Dakota had arms again, he wrapped them around Cavendish and forgave him with such intensity Cavendish felt as though he was being cleansed of every one of his misdoings, baptized in water that would not burn him. Dakota was not sure Cavendish understood love, but he was not sure he understood it either, so they promised to discover it together.

So things were the same. Well, not completely the same. There was still a puppy in the house on full moons, just in a larger package. They discovered that Dakota could not change forms at will, not exactly. It wasn’t a conscious choice. But when Cavendish or the children were in any sort of danger, more likely than not they’d find a wolf at their side. It was a part of him that existed to protect, that one day he might be able to really, truly control. Until then, he was an annoying slobbering beast who Cavendish pretended to not play with. 

And today things were changing, too. Milo, Zack and Melissa were graduating from eighth grade, which was apparently an ordeal. Cavendish didn’t entirely understand why, but he was being supportive. As supportive as he could be. Since it was happening during the day, naturally, Dakota was _trying_ to stream it to him.

“Yo, Kyle, my man!” Dakota was distracted at the sight of Drako, who was standing with a gaggle of adults by the stage. The ceremony hadn’t started yet (or had it? Cavendish didn’t know what would signify the beginning of the ritual) but the teacher was clearly busy. Dakota bounced over, completely oblivious to the thought. “How’s it hanging?”

“Ah, Vinnie!” Drako gave him a toothy smile. He was dressed like he was mourning, but he always dressed like that. “Milo told me he invited you! I’m glad you could make it.”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Dakota sounded totally genuine, and Cavendish believed he was. He lifted the phone so Cavendish could see Drako. “Balthazar’s here too. I told Savannah she should come, but she hates kids.”

Drako’s eyebrows creased into a semi concerned look. Though he and Dakota had found they had more in common than different and got along swimmingly, it was clear he was more than happy to not have to interact with Savannah on a regular basis. Dakota was the glue that held all sorts of people together. “Alright, well, I’m going to have to ask you to take your seat now. We’ll chat later.”

“You can bet on it!” Dakota moved the phone to one hand so he could give him a stupid thumbs up. Cavendish rolled his eyes. He knew Dakota couldn’t see it, but he was doing it on principle more than anything.

Dakota walked down the aisles. He received some odd stares, but nothing too overt. This was the school that Milo went to, after all. The parents and students were used to the weird. He sat next to Mrs. and Mr. Murphy, showing off the phone screen to them. “Oh, hello Cavendish,” Brigette smiled warmly, assuming that was what she was supposed to be looking at. Her eyes wandered up to meet Dakota’s, her expression gentle but wry. “Are you two still going to be joining us for bowling? We’re friends with the manager, so they’ve already got shin guards and gas masks prepared for us.”

From the way the screen jerked, Cavendish assumed he was nodding. “I bet ya five bucks Balth is gonna break something with his vampire strength before your husband breaks something with his luck.”

Brigette laughed breezily, resting her fingertips on her chest. “Vinnie, you know I’m not a betting woman!” She spoke lowly, so all of the men around her could still hear, “make it fifteen.” She squeezed Martin’s hand as the crowd suddenly hushed, and Cavendish figured out that meant things were getting started.

A woman up on stage was talking into a microphone about class achievements, only sighing when the sprinklers randomly went off and a haywire lawn mower zoomed erratically into the gym, waiting for Milo to handle it as he apologized lightly to the room. When the microphone stopped working, she just motioned for each kid to come on stage and receive a piece of paper.

This was the big part, Cavendish guessed, since everyone clapped. No one clapped as hard as Dakota did, who set the phone in his lap, leaving Cavendish with a view that made him cover his eyes, too gentlemanly and flustered to peek through his fingers. Dakota was cheering with all his might for every single child, with a vigor that would make an onlooker assume he had just listened to the Mozart of his generation perform.

Melissa was the first of the kids Cavendish knew to be called up, due to her last name. He clapped too, knowing she wouldn’t hear or see. It was alright. He did the same for Zack and Milo. When the last child received their paper Dakota stood up to shriek about how proud he was of all of them, forgetting there was a phone in his lap. A chuckle escaped Cavendish’s lips. He was stupidly passionate about things he had no right to be passionate about.

Cavendish found himself picturing how wonderful Dakota would be as a parent.

He didn’t dismiss the thought, just tucked it away for the time being.

Cavendish’s view shifted again as Dakota picked up the phone, giving his a sympathetic, “I’m so sorry, I totally forgot.” He didn’t know how someone could be so thoughtful and airheaded at the same time. 

“It’s not like there was much to see anyway. You four made graduations out to be such a grand affair.” Cavendish thought he was safe since Dakota couldn’t see his face, but his smile bled into his words.

Before Dakota could tease him, he stumbled to the side, phone tilting in his hand and revealing his attacker as Melissa, arms around his midsection in either a hug or a tackle, or maybe both. Milo and Zack were behind her, all grinning wide and wearing the same ill fitting robes as the other kids in the gym, though Milo still had his backpack on. Probably a safety precaution on the school’s end. Dakota dragged them all into the hug, and Cavendish could hear their minor complaints and grunts as he crushed their bones thoroughly.

“Oh my god, you guys look so grown up,” Dakota gushed. “I’m gonna cry.”

They didn’t look any older to Cavendish. Two years was nothing. _Thirteen_ years was nothing. They were all so young. Even Dakota was. And yet, despite his vast collection of time spent on this earth, Cavendish knew he had not experienced as much life as his partner has. Regardless, he was ready to spend the rest of that time experiencing alongside him, for as many years as they could get their hands on. All the good, all the bad, all the fun things and all the horrible things and all the pain and all the love. Together. 

“Shoo, you big dork, we wanna talk to Cav,” Melissa tried to take the phone out of his hand as the other two let go of him.

“You’re using me for my vampire connections?” Dakota gasped scandalously, trying to keep it out of her grasp, only for Zack to yank it out of his hold. Dakota laughed, “Wait, wait, let me say goodbye first.”

“You’re going to get your phone back in a minute,” Zack raised an eyebrow, “and you’ll see him face to face in a few hours.”

“This is animal abuse,” Dakota whined.

“Aw, let him say goodbye!” Milo begged Zack, too easily won over by their ‘tragedy.’

A blush crept onto Zack’s face, and Cavendish was not going to let that go, already plotting what he could do to return the favors the kids did for him. And helping them admit their crushes would be more than perfect. “Alright,” he mumbled, holding out the phone to Dakota.

“See ya,” Dakota said casually, and they simultaneously wondered why he was so desperate to say goodbye when that’s all he wanted to say. He pressed his lips against the screen before running off to make some friends, “Love ya!”

Cavendish sighed dreamily, regaining his composure when he noticed all the kids staring. He straightened his collar, “Right. How’s the plan coming along?”

“Fantastic!” Milo grinned. He was missing another tooth, and Cavendish was sure there was an impossible story behind it. “We came up with a name!’

“A name?” Cavendish wrinkled his nose. “That’s not a lot of progress.”

Melissa shook her head. “It’s the first step to any good scheme! Plus, it’s an amazing name. We call it,” she paused for effect, “Operation Ringtail Lemur. Because-“ she motioned for the boys to speak in tandem with her.

“We’re getting a ring on that tail!” They said together.

“Oh, that is clever,” Cavendish admitted. Dakota had told him he didn’t need a label for their relationship if Cavendish didn’t want one, but going on three years with him led him to decide there was something he’d like to call Dakota, and that was _husband_.

“First, you need a ring. As usual, Milo is going to distract Vinnie,” Zack turned the phone to Milo, who waved, “and Melissa will help you pick out a ring. She is going to ask you to do many illegal things, breaking laws you might not even know about, so don’t do anything she says.”

“Boo!” Melissa stuck out her tongue at him. “Stop ruining all the fun.”

Zack continued, unremorseful, “I’ll be researching proposal ideas, since I know what’s romantic. Milo will also be asking Vinnie questions on the down-low, to find out his tastes.”

There was no way this wasn’t going to end in disaster. But if that bothered Cavendish, he wouldn’t be asking these kids in the first place. Besides, a proposal that ends in flames is better than an awkward one. Maybe it’ll make Dakota laugh.

“I think it should involve fireworks,” Melissa added. “Fireworks are always a good idea.”

“Yes, if we temporarily blind him, then he won’t see me make a fool of myself,” Cavendish agreed, as if that were a sound plan.

“Aw, come on guys, nobody will be blinded,” Milo interjected. Even in hypothetical situations, he wanted things to go right for them.

“Around you?” Cavendish gave him a look pointlessly, but Milo got the idea. “Right, we can work out the rest of the details next time we’re together.” He said, knowing full well they’d be visiting soon. His manor was so rarely quiet these days. And that was a wonderful thing. His sullen tomb had turned into a bustling center of life and laughter. When Dakota was there, it really felt like a home, but so did Dakota’s apartment, and that little cliffside clearing, and the seven eleven he’d take him to, and anywhere at all that Dakota was. Yes, home was not a place for Cavendish; it was a person.

“Yeah, and we’ll give you a hug too,” Milo promised, as though he was worried Cavendish was jealous that Dakota was getting all the hugs at the graduation ceremony.

“Yo, not to interrupt whatever sinister things you nutjobs are working on, but your dad’s looking for you, Melissa,” Dakota came back over, munching on something. Of _course_ he had found food. “He’s gonna take you guys for pizza, so like, get on that.”

“Wait, are you eating a dog biscuit?” Zack asked incredulously, lowering the phone without thinking about it. “That’s more important than pizza right now.”

“Woah, nothing’s more important than pizza,” Dakota started, and Cavendish wondered if he should put the ring in his food. It had happened in this unbearably cheesy movie Dakota forced him to watch when he was over, and it seemed like a decent idea. But knowing Dakota, he would probably eat it. Were his teeth strong enough to chew through metal? It was possible. “But yeah, some old lady saw the tail and got real confused. Told me my dog was cute and gave me one of these. It’s not terrible.”

“That’s disgusting,” Zack and Cavendish assured him at the same time.

“Do you want another one?” Milo was already reaching into his backpack. Melissa hooked her arm through his to both prevent him from getting out any dog treats and get him to start walking in the direction of her dad.

“We can talk about this later, I’m starving,” Melissa groaned, “not to mention Lydia owes me a lollipop ‘cause she thought no lawn maintenance tools were gonna interrupt the ceremony,” she motioned to the lawn mower, laying on its side in defeat, a small plume of smoke still rising from it, “and I aim to collect.”

Zack gave the phone back to Dakota and hurried off with his friends. They both watched them run off, the energetic murmur of the crowd filling the space. Dakota started walking towards the doorway of the gym. He spoke to Cavendish, “Need anything while I’m out?”

Cavendish hummed thoughtfully. “I could use a kiss.”

Dakota laughed, stepping outside. He positively glowed in the sunlight. Cavendish needed to figure out how to take pictures so he could see this whenever he liked. Although Dakota would never turn down a request to video chat with him. “I better hurry up then, that sounds urgent.”

“Very.” Cavendish nodded solemnly. Dakota tapped at the screen, distracting Cavendish from their playing, “What are you doing?”

“Ah, it’s almost out of battery,” Dakota explained.

“If that’s the case, you don’t have to keep talking to me, Vinnie. Conserve your battery. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” He couldn’t believe they had gotten so lovey dovey that saying goodbye for even just a little bit filled him with so much reluctance.

“Okay,” Dakota smiled dazzlingly at him, and Cavendish lost any semblance of thought. “I love you.” He said it clearly this time, but just as easily. It was _so_ easy. Loving and being loved. As simple as coming home. If only he had figured it out sooner.

“I love you, too.”


End file.
